That Day
by IUseGoldenInk
Summary: AU/AH - With his job as a wedding planner and relationship on the line, Stiles has his work cut out of him. Enter Derek, his brother's pushy best friend and Stiles can't figure out if he's a hindrance or his saviour. SLASH - Adapted from SarryMatts
1. Stubborn Love

Nature

No one should ever be woken up by an obnoxious ring tone before noon on a Sunday, especially when they'd gone to sleep at five and they were hung over.

"Answer it." Jackson rumbled from beside him, shoving him towards the edge of the bed. "Now!"

Stiles hit the floor with a thud, groaning as he woke properly, face first onto a wooden floor could do that to a person. He rubbed the side of his head dazedly, looking around at the scattered clothes for the location of the irritating ringing.

"Stiles phone!" Jackson was sitting up, also unable to hang onto the last threads of sleep.

"I don't know where it is." The younger muttered sleepily, covering his yawn with his hand and frowning when the ringing stopped, only to start again seconds later.

"It's in your coat pocket." Jackson stepped over him with a scowl, like it was all __his__ fault that he was being called repeatedly at stupid AM on a Sunday.

The phone rang off again and he sighed when it began yet again, reaching for the denim jacket that had been dropped by the door in the drunken scramble the night before.

"Hello?" He answered with a yawn, glaring at the number display on the clock as it mocked him with those horrible numbers. 07:21. Too early!

"I have been trying to get in contact with you all morning!" The far from dulcet tones of Olive Reyes hit his ears.

"It's seven-twenty-one." He stated stupidly, his attention drawn to the sound of the shower.

Mmm…Jackson in the shower.

"I am fully aware of the hour, Stiles." The old woman snapped, the acid tone probably enough to melt him alive. She really reminded him of his mother most days. "I will be expecting you here in half an hour."

"But it's Sunday." He muttered, leaning to the side to watch Jackson through the glass door of the shower.

"Why, yes it is."

He threw the phone at the bed when she hung up and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was so temped to ignore the demanding woman and climb into the shower with Jackson. He didn't though.

Instead, he brushed his teeth, idly watching Jackson towel dry himself off. Neither of them said a word. The mornings were always awkward between them.

"That was Olive Reyes. She's summoned me." Stiles explained, following the blonde back into the bedroom and hoping that Jackson would pull rank as his boss and tell him not to go to work on his day off. They had plans for dinner after all.

"Better get moving then." Jackson suggested, completely uninterested, unfazed that their day was going to be ruined. "She's an important client."

"Yeah…"

Stiles waited until Jackson was gone before gathering up his folder, laptop and phone. He made a point of not thinking about the strange position he'd ended up in with Jackson. Most of the time he had no idea whether he was coming or going with his boss.

"No. No thinking about it." He scolded, pulling onto the main road.

He was annoyed, Sunday was the only day he had off and Olive Reyes had just ruined the first one he'd been able to spend with Jackson in over a month. Then again, he was annoyed at Jackson too, it would have been nice if he hadn't abandoned him to deal with the nightmare old woman alone so abruptly as well.

No. He was not going to dwell on Jackson.

"I told you half an hour!" The harridan was actually waiting for him in the stupid cold wind, pouncing the second he climbed out of his battered old car.

"I live an hour from here." He replied absently, his attention fixed to what was no doubt the reason Olive was so frazzled.

The summer house. The beautiful, authentic, antique, __Victorian__, stained glass summer house. The centre piece of Erica Reyes's wedding. There it was, with a tree through it. There was no way to describe the panic that was rising inside him. The old oak beams were cracked and splintered, the whole area was sprinkled with multicoloured glass and the old ceramic tiled floor was cracked.

"They claim that the tree was diseased." Olive Reyes scowled at him, as if that was his fault too. "It gave way some time late last night."

It was some sort of omen. It had to be. Six weeks before the wedding and the location was in a crumbled mess. Two months wasn't enough time to re-plan a wedding with almost one thousand guests. He'd been pushing his luck by trying to arrange it in under a year in the first place.

"Well?"

"What?" He asked, sounding stupid yet again as he stared at her blankly. It really was like being around his mother, every time he opened his mouth he felt like he was a child saying the wrong thing.

"You are the wedding planner. Plan a back up." She ordered, haughty tone back and he stared at her blankly.

__Plan a back up.__

Was she joking?

Oh.

She wasn't joking.

"I'm going to need some coffee." He sighed in defeat, mentally waving goodbye to every free moment he would have had over the two months and turning back to his car to retrieve his laptop.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

><p>"Oh mother how could you?"<p>

The question came from Erica, the rather unfortunate bride. Stiles looked up from the folder in front of him to give her a brief wave while he listened to the woman on the other end of the phone mutter to herself.

"How could I what?" Olive asked her daughter, her tone much less bossy and condescending when she wasn't talking to someone she considered to be 'The Help.'

"It's Sunday! Poor Stiles probably had plans with his family or his girlfriend and here you are standing over him! Forcing him to work like some task master." Erica scolded, glaring at her mother.

After dealing with the difficult woman for so many months it was rather refreshing to watch someone else tell her off and talk to her the way she spoke to the rest of the world. If her expression was anything to go by, it wasn't a regular occurrence, even from Erica.

"Considering the amount I am paying, I see nothing wrong with it." Olive stated primly, waving a hand in dismissal. "Where is Isaac?"

"I'm here."

It was the first time Stiles had ever met Erica's fiancé and he found himself gawping. He was in the army so spent a lot of time away but he took regular leave to spend time with his fiancé. He was perfect. Tall, brunette, brown eyes, muscles, strong jaw, physically fit and perfect lips. Perfect.

"So this is the wedding planner?" Isaac eyed him, distain in his eyes and a slight curl of his lip as if he was trying not to sneer.

Okay. Not so perfect.

Luckily he was saved when the secretary on the phone started talking to him again.

"I'm so sorry sir, the earliest date we have available is August of next year. You can leave your name and contact details and I can contact you in the event of a cancellation." She paused for a moment. "I'll warn you though, the waiting list is quite long."

"Don't worry about it. Thank you for your help." He hung up with a sigh, crossing off the last venue on the list he and Olive had made. Thirty-seven venues. Not one of them could help. "No luck."

"Have you called everyone on that list today?" Erica demanded, her fighting spirit back again. She shoved Isaac out of her way and snatched the list from the table. "What time did she call you?"

"Seven thirty." He shrugged, gently taking the list back from her and attaching it to the inside of the folder. "I got here an hour later."

"Why?" Isaac asked, losing the battle and sneering at him. "I thought only women liked planning weddings."

"Isaac be nice."

"Why?" Both Isaac and Olive were baffled and Erica sighed, shooting him an apologetic look.

"It's okay Jen." Stiles murmured, closing the folder. "I'm used to it. To be fair, this was an emergency and I didn't have plans."

"See." Olive sounded so smug, like suddenly it was justified that she'd ruined his day off and looked down her nose at him. "Right. What are you going to do abou-"

"Mother!" Erica closed the laptop with a loud snap, almost catching Stiles's fingers. "He's been here for over five hours and I bet you haven't even offered him some food. Let him have the rest of his day off. You can take up all of his time tomorrow."

"He's just admitted he doesn't have plans." Isaac stated, siding with Olive, who was clearly very happy to have him on her side. "It doesn't look like he's resolved any of our problems either."

"Honey you need more than Stiles to resolve your problems." Erica sniped, furious at her fiancé. "You need a professional."

"Erica Patricia Reyes! How dare you-"

"I'll come back tomorrow!" Stiles blurted out quickly, wanting to head off the family fight. Isaac looked ready to explode and Olive was giving Erica that pinched look that was usually a sign that a mum was going to start lecturing about manners. "I'll be here for noon, that way I can see if anyone in the office can call in any favours and get us a venue."

"Oh! Thank you."

He really liked Erica. She was so down to earth compared with Olive and the unpleasant Isaac. She always made sure she was nice, gave him coffee, and she'd paid for him when Olive insisted they have a planning session in a restaurant that charged more for a bottle of wine than he paid for a month's rent.

Stiles left, relief flooding him and quickly sent a text message to Jackson, asking if he was still welcome to go around for dinner. Jackson was a fantastic cook, and any chance he got he'd try to eat with him. Jackson had made it very clear he'd rather chew off his own foot than eat anything that Stiles had cooked again.

His phone buzzed as he started to drive off and he grabbed it, daring one quick glance down at the screen but his grin died when he saw the reply.

****No****

No explanation. No apology. Just one single word.

Just like that.

Stiles slumped in his chair in disappointment and began the long drive home. It was probably the worst Sunday he'd had in a long time.

* * *

><p>Sometimes an extra pair of arms would be useful. Every morning was a juggling act for him.<p>

Four folders. Four coffees. His laptop bag. The office post. Two newspapers.

Folder number one went on Jackson's empty desk, along with coffee number one; a large black coffee with two extra shots of espresso. Stiles wasn't sure where Jackson was but he was instantly worried, usually his boss was there first and stayed longer than any of them.

"Thank you petal." Braeden didn't look up as he gave her folder number two and coffee number two; double cream caramel latte with four sugars. She opened the folder straight away and took a mouthful of coffee.

Coffee number three and the two newspapers went to Aiden. Piss weak filter coffee with tonnes of milk and tonnes of sugar.

The third folder went to Kira. She snatched it straight away and started flicking through it, reaching for the phone with the hand that wasn't clutching her water bottle. Kira didn't drink caffeine. She was one of those health fanatics. Two hours in the gym every day. No alcohol, nothing with more than 0.1% fat content.

He sat down at his own desk with a yawn and opened the last folder. It was completely full of all of the arrangements and plans for the Archer-Reyes wedding and he had no idea what to do. He was just a trainee, not that Olive was aware of that. No one else in the office would work for the old trout so Jackson had dumped the account on him, telling him not to screw up.

"Does anyone have any favours they can pull in for me. I need a venue big enough for a thousand for September twelfth." He called out, figuring he may as well get it over with. They all turned to stare at him and Stiles bit his lip at the amusement on their faces. "Yeah, I figured it was a bit of a long shot."

"Ask Jackson when he gets in." Braeden suggested with a sympathetic smile when Aiden snorted and Kira pulled a face.

He really didn't want to have to do that. It was bad enough that the three in their office knew about him and Jackson, last thing he needed was abuse because they thought Jackson was giving him hand outs. He slumped in his chair, looking towards the glass walled office Jackson had in the corner.

Hopefully Jackson would be in a better mood.

"Still hung over?" Jackson greeted Braeden with a smirk when he swooped in and she gave him a tired look.

"Screw you." She gave him the finger, not even bothering to give him a real reply. "Oh, and be nice."

"To who?" Jackson took off the designer sunglasses, revealing bright blue eyes.

He was in a really good mood. As in, so good that Stiles had never seen him look so full of life. What had happened to lead to that? He swallowed when Aiden glared at him.

"The runt needs a favour."

Good mood gone.

It was like that lately, one mention of Stiles and Jackson's eyes would dim and his smile would fade and he'd get this look on his face, like he'd rather Stiles just wasn't there.

"Office." Jackson gestured, walking towards his cubicle.

Stiles scrambled after him, wishing that the other three weren't craning to get a good look. A feeling of dread was starting to fill him. He had a sneaking suspicion that his bad luck was going to stick for at least another day.

"What happened?"

"One of the trees on the Reyes Estate was diseased and it fell through the summer house." Stiles explained reluctantly, biting his lip. "I can't find a replacement venue and they can't postpone the wedding because the groom is going to be serving in another country for a year starting January."

"Ah. How many does the venue need to hold?"

"A thousand."

"No chance." Jackson stated, leaning back in his huge office chair as he sipped the coffee and Stiles bit his lip.

"So what do I do?"

"Convince them to postpone."

"I can't."

"Then you're going to have to pull off a miracle." Jackson stated bluntly, sharp blue eyes holding Stiles's. "If you lose the Reyes account for the company then you're going to lose your job."

What?!

Stiles was frozen. How could Jackson do that to him? He liked his job and office hours were usually the only time he got to be in the same room as Jackson without the two of them having half a bottle of whisky inside them.

"What are you waiting for?" Jackson asked idly, staring at him and Stiles licked his lips.

"You're going to fire me if I don't pull off a miracle?"

"Yes."

"But you…Jackson we…"

"I can't give you preferential treatment Stiles. You know that. If it was one of those three out there then I'd say exactly the same to them. If you want that miracle you're going to have to get a move on." Jackson warned him and Stiles had to bite his lip to stop the wetness in his eyes welling up.

"How am I supposed to pull it off?"

"For one thing, you don't start crying about it." The blonde man snorted and sipped his coffee again, tapping his pen on the glass desk. "I can help you out a little."

"Really?" See! There was the Jackson that he liked.

"I'll let you concentrate on your miracle. We need a break from each other anyway." Jackson stated casually and Stiles almost fell over in shock. "If you pull off the miracle, then we can see where we stand."

Just like that.

First, nature ruins his first solo planned event. Then, less than forty-eight hours later Jackson was putting his job and their relationship on the line and making him attempt to pull off a miracle. He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there but he jumped when the phone rang.

"This call is important." Jackson stated, gesturing to the door.

Stiles fled.


	2. Little Talks

Derek Hale

He couldn't quite get his head around it.

There he was, standing outside a place he really didn't want to be, considering begging someone he hated for help.

Around him the drunks were laughing and joking around, shoving and jostling in the queue to the club.

Was he really that desperate?

That afternoon, after he'd recovered from Jackson's ruthlessness enough to get his head down and start working again he'd taken all of his annual leave, getting two months off work in one go. He was going to need every spare moment for his miracle to happen, if not then he'd rather not have to go back and face everyone knowing he'd failed.

Olive had been her usual horrible self and unfortunately Erica had been out with Isaac, making the most of his leave from duty, so he hadn't had her protection. The old woman hadn't let him stop working from the moment he arrived to the moment he eventually pleaded exhaustion and left.

Six hours and no food, no drink and most alarmingly, no miracle.

He'd practically run as he left, her threat of closing her account ringing in his ears if he didn't pull through.

"You coming in?" The bouncer asked him gruffly after he'd waved through about seven people that had actually been queuing behind him and Stiles swallowed, nodding slowly.

He hated the club. It was, however, the one place that he knew he'd be able to find his brother. Marcus was always there, usually with his best friend hassling one of the many dancers or waiting staff. Where Marcus was, Derek wasn't far behind and his target was Derek. Considering that most of the women that worked there were there out of desperation he thought it was awful that the two morons had to treat them that way. Still, Derek's family owned the place, had done since before the war, and no one could throw them out.

Stiles took a deep breath when he found them in their usual booth, a very skinny bottle blonde girl dancing around a pole in front of them as they lounged on a large sofa. He didn't bother to greet them, just hopped over the back of the sofa and sat between them.

Marcus started choking on his drink but Derek flashed him a grin.

"Hello kitty."

Funny.

"What brings you here?" Derek asked idly, dark eyes glinting as he put a leg across Stiles' lap, trapping him in the chair.

"Yeah. Thought this sort of thing wasn't your cup of tea." Marcus muttered, eyes flickering to the scantily clad girl above them.

"I need help." Stiles forced the words out and Derek grinned as Marcus muttered something about already knowing that. "I actually need a miracle, Derek. Can we talk?"

The two friends shared a look and Marcus stood, walking over to the bar to give them a moment to talk business. Stiles bit his lip when Derek gestured for him to start talking.

"I'm going to lose my job if I can't find a venue to hold a thousand guests in the next few days." Stiles stammered, shifting when Derek's hand rested on his thigh. "It's Erica Reyes's wedding and we were using their summer house but one of the trees fell through the roof on Sunday morning."

"Right. So you're a wedding planner now?" Derek laughed, amused. "And Marcus and I thought you couldn't get anymore gay."

"Derek please."

"Are you begging?"

"I…" Stiles closed his eyes for a moment. He hated being around Derek, the git was rich as hell and his manners were worse than Olive's on his good days. "I can beg if you want me to. I really need help."

"Yeah. I think that's a good idea." Derek retorted lazily, moving his leg. "And make it good or I might not help."

Make it good? How was he supposed to do that? Short of getting on his knees he didn't know how else a person was supposed to beg. He shoved aside what little remained of his pride and got on his knees in front of Derek, bringing his hands up to clasp them in front of his chest.

"Please help me Derek."

"That's not very convincing." Derek stated, his eyes getting drawn back to the dancing girl.

"Please! You are literally my only hope! __Please__ help me."

"Still not feeling it." The man snorted, looking back at him, something flashing in his eyes. Stiles didn't like that look, last time he'd seen it he'd ended up in a lot of trouble. It was cold and calculating. "How desperate are you Stiles?"

"Wh-what?"

"What are you willing to do?" Derek gestured for the dancer to leave and as she hopped down from the podium and the pole he let his eyes dart to it suggestively.

Stiles paled.

"No."

"Get up there or I don't help you." Derek taunted, cupping his cheek with a surprisingly gentle touch. "Or I'm not going to be convinced that you really want my help."

Begging on his knees was one thing, he could do that. He needed his job because it was the only connection he had to Jackson, and if he failed then not only would he lose that but Jackson wouldn't want him anymore.

Dancing around a pole? Now that was an entirely different story. That made him one of the many desperate girls that Derek and Marcus mocked.

"Well?"

"I can't." He whispered, shaking his head. He had enough pride not to do that. "Please Derek. I've never asked you for anything before and I promise I'll never ask again."

"You already know my conditions." Derek stated, very business like. "You can have all of the help you need. All you have to do is get up there."

Stiles stood, feeling sick at the glint of anticipation in Derek's eyes.

That was it.

"Thanks for nothing." He said softly and left as fast as he could, shoving past his brother, who tried to catch his arm to stop him.

Last hope gone.

He heard someone following him but didn't bother to find out which of them it was. Once he was outside though his pursuer gave up.

"It was a joke Stiles!"

* * *

><p>He didn't sleep that night. He spent the whole night going through the folder and finding out what the cancellation and postponing policies were for all of the companies they'd booked services with. If he was going to let Olive Reyes down then he should at least do it properly. He tried not to think about what that would mean concerning his job and Jackson.<p>

He'd had a few tears when he first got home from the club but whether that was from the humiliation of the way Derek treated him or because he'd run out of straws he couldn't say.

The familiar buzz of his phone made him look up from his doodles and he blinked. It was six in the morning. The only person he knew that was up that early in the morning was Olive and he really didn't want to talk to her. Still, he was pretty sure the sixty-something year old wouldn't know how to send a text.

****Are you at home?****

He didn't recognise the number. He debated whether or not to answer it, not sure if it was a good idea in case it was a burglar or an axe murderer, when it buzzed again.

****Fuck it. Don't care where you are. Come to mine now and I'll help you out. We'll discuss the pole dance at a later date.****

Derek then.

Stiles bit his lip, eyes darting to the clock again. Should he risk it?

Another buzz.

****Don't be a coward.****

He snorted. He might find Derek obnoxious and perverted but after growing up around him the man knew him pretty well. He slipped his shoes on, grabbed his keys and his usual work supplies and left in a flurry.

He didn't live too far from the Hale estate. It was easily nearly double the size of the Reyes family home, and he knew that there were actually two more houses that the Hale's owned. It was in better condition than the Reyes home too.

"You look like shit." Derek told him, holding a mug of coffee out to him. "I assume you're still running on caffeine."

"Thank you." It was good coffee too. "Derek I…"

"Sit."

He obeyed without a second's hesitation and bit his lip when Derek dumped a pile of papers down on the table between them. It was the first time he'd ever seen Derek as a businessman and not the sleazy best friend of his big brother.

"What's the date of this wedding?" Derek asked, flipping through a thick diary.

"September twelfth." Stiles bit his lip as he watched Derek check the diary and Derek frowned.

"Twelfth is no good. How about the sixth?"

One week earlier. That was better than having to cancel the whole thing or postpone it for a year. He pulled out his phone, mentally checking their time scale.

"I need to call them." Stiles said softly, knowing that if there was a big event in their social circle that weekend then Derek would probably already know about it.

He dialled Olive's number slowly, hoping she wasn't going to be too pissed off at him for the early call.

"Stiles?" She sounded rather desperate. "Please tell me that you have good news!"

"I can't get a venue for the twelfth." He stated carefully, biting his lip when Derek pushed the diary across the table to him. There were various social functions written under the dates and that whole weekend was completely empty. "But I can get a venue for the sixth."

Silence.

"Olive?"

More silence.

"Where?" The old woman's voice had an odd waver to it.

"The Hale Estate."

"Oh Stiles…" She trailed off and he blinked at his mobile, confused. Was that a bad reaction? "You have no idea…this is…How on earth did you manage it? This is amazing. The sixth will be fine."

She was genuinely happy. He laughed as she rambled and nodded to Derek, who leant over and pencilled it in.

There. One step closer to getting his life back on track and somehow he'd managed to render the miserable cow speechless.

"Can we see the venue?" Olive questioned once she'd recovered and Stiles relayed the request to Derek, who glanced at the clock briefly before nodding.

"Tell them to be here at twelve." Derek told him, standing up and leaving the room.

After Olive had let him go, Stiles stood and followed Derek out into the garden. Stopping at the door and smiling faintly when he saw Derek was sat with a huge black Labrador, scratching behind its ears. It was a different picture to the one he was used to. Usually Derek was doing his best to make everyone around him uncomfortable.

"I don't do anything for free Stiles." Derek stated without looking round at him. "I'm not a philanthropist."

"I'm not pole dancing for you." Stiles said quickly and Derek snorted. "I mean it. I'll do a lot, but not that. What do you want from me?"

"You hungry?"

"Uhm…" Stiles hesitated, off balance again and hating it. How had Marcus put up with Derek for so long?

"Yes or no? It's not like there's a wrong answer the question."

"Yeah, food would be nice." Stiles murmured, uncomfortable as Derek stood and brushed past him.

He did not like having something like that hanging over his head. Derek Hale was tricky and being in his debt wasn't a good thing. If he'd outright stated what he wanted then it wouldn't be so bad but it was just there, between them, the knowledge that Derek had power over him.

"Marcus said you haven't been home in a while."

"Marcus says a lot of things."

"Your dad misses you."

"No he doesn't." Stiles shook his head, sitting by his folder and to go through it. Or at least, he started to but Derek shut it and pushed it away from him. "Hey!"

"Food, some sleep, and then you can work." Derek ordered, catching hold of his hand when he reached for it again. "I can force you if I have to. Now, eggs okay with you? I take it you're still a vegetarian?"

"Eggs are fine." He sullenly nodded, staring at his folder forlornly.

Derek was a decent cook. It was a revelation that surprised him. Stiles could remember when he'd been a teenager and Marcus and Derek's idea of cooking was to walk to the chippy or order a pizza. The eggs in front of him were probably the best scrambled eggs he'd ever had. Still, he wasn't going to tell him that.

"What am I expected to do for you now you've helped?" Stiles attempted again and Derek eyed him, suddenly amused. "Derek?"

"Does it bother you that you don't know yet?" He questioned lightly, dark eyes full of mockery again and Stiles sighed. For a moment there Derek had sort of been pleasant.

"Yes."

"I'll tell you when you need to know."

"Why can't you tell me now?"

"Why can't you wait?"

"Why should I have to?"

"Why don't you stand up to other people like this?" Derek's taunt made Stiles snap his mouth shut with wide eyes and the younger swallowed. "Seriously, you let everyone walk all over and then the moment I do something nice for you I just get attitude from you."

"You…I…" He did have a point. Stiles had always had a short temper with Derek, but let Marcus treat him like a slave.

"Yeah that's what I thought Kitty." Derek sneered and stood up, leaving most of his breakfast untouched. "I have an appointment at nine, have someone take you to my room and get some shut eye. You really do look like shit."

The last thing he expected when he woke was for it to be late afternoon. Panic hit. Olive was supposed to be there for twelve. He scrambled up, pulling a face when he saw that someone had dressed him in a baggy t-shirt. His folder was gone from the bed and so was his laptop. There was a note on the pillow though. He didn't recognise the writing.

__Stiles,__

__I had someone check on you at eleven-thirty but you were fast asleep. I will entertain the Reyes until you feel better.__

It wasn't signed. He looked around the room with a yawn, able to take his surroundings in better after some rest. It was spotless, way too tidy for him considering he left clothes and cups everywhere back in his flat. The bed was massive, possibly bigger than his bedroom, and incredibly comfortable. There was a huge flat screen television with hundreds of DVDs in the wall rack either side of it. He could probably sell the contents of the room and use the money to buy his flat off his landlord.

The sound of laughter from downstairs caught his attention, snapping him into action. He redressed, smoothed down messy brown hair, and dashed out, practically running down the stairs.

"Ah here he is." Erica jumped up and hugged him. "You're incredible Stiles."

Even Isaac wasn't sneering at him and he blinked when he saw that Olive was sat next to Derek's mother and Derek was stood next to a table full of food. On seeing Harriet there he realised that it must have been Derek's mother who wrote the note for him.

"How are you feeling dear?" Derek's mother had always been nice to him, especially when his brother and the older boys were picking on him when he was little and he gave her a shy smile.

"Better now."

"Derek tells us you stayed up all night and gave yourself a migraine." Erica fussed, tugging him to the table and pushing him down into the empty chair beside where Derek stood. "You've saved my wedding."

"Yeah I guess." Stiles muttered, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Uhm, I still need to convince the catering companies and the rest of the others that they can move to the sixth."

"Oh I'm sure you'll be fine." Olive laughed, happier than he'd ever seen her. "You did what none of us believed you would be able by securing us a venue. I must say, the lake house is stunning."

The lake house. He'd not been there for years, not since he'd somehow wound up there for Marcus's eighteenth birthday. It was the first time he'd got drunk. He still remembered throwing up on Derek that night.

"It's perfect for the ceremony." Erica said excitedly, reminding Stiles of their first ever planning meeting. "Although, we're going to have to change some of our plans."

"Give me a couple of days." Stiles told her softly, smiling at Derek when he was handed a glass of orange juice.

"Do you think we could get boats?" Erica asked quickly and Isaac and Olive looked at her in bafflement. "Think about how romantic it would be to have some old fashioned rowing boats on the lake once the meal is over."

"I don't know…" Isaac trailed off when Derek's mother laughed, the sound a bit like music.

"I had them at my own wedding." Harriet admitted, gesturing to the south end of the lake. "My maid of honour and her fiancé had a fight and she fell in on that side. I believe we still have them in storage. I'll have one of the boys have a look for you."

Derek sat beside him as the three woman talked about the boats and how realistic it was to have them and Stiles swallowed when Derek started adding food to his plate. He didn't know why the man was suddenly being so nice to him but it was confusing him enough to put him out of his good mood.

"You must come to dinner on Sunday." Harriet stated to Olive, beaming at her. "With so many of my old friends gone it's nice to get in touch with a fellow debutant."

Oh god she was going to start reminiscing.

The two old women managed to bore them all throughout the rest of the afternoon until Isaac eventually hit his limit and insisted they leave, thanking Harriet and Derek before dragging the two Reyes women away.

"I think I will return to the piano." Harriet announced, standing awkwardly and reaching for her cane. "It's suddenly a little chilly for me."

That left him alone with Derek and he didn't like that one bit. It was so tense. All he could think of was Derek's face when he was ordering him to get up and pole dance, the spiteful mocking in his dark eyes.

"Will you relax?" Derek eventually snapped and Stiles bit his lip. "I'm not going to bite."

"That's a lie." Stiles muttered, warily reaching for his orange juice and sipping it. "When am I going to find out what my end of the deal is?"

"When I decide what I want from you." Derek retorted sharply, scowling at him. "Do you have any other topic of conversation?"

"What?"

"You keep bringing the conversation back to that." Derek frowned at him more and Stiles shrugged.

"We don't really have anything else to talk about."

Okay, so that was apparently the wrong thing to say. Derek did not look happy. He was left staring after the older man as he stomped away.


	3. I Will Wait

Two out of Twelve

Eri was waiting in the kitchen when he arrived half an hour later than he originally intended but unlike her domineering mother she wasn't too worried about the lost minutes. She'd made coffee, beautiful, strong, freshly ground coffee, and the breakfast bar was packed full with plates of food. Eri was stood next to an almost empty plate of chocolate croissants, guilty expression on her face. He grinned, holding up a hand to say he wasn't going to comment and her shoulders relaxed, he wasn't going to nag her about being able to fit into her dress like Olive did whenever Eri attempted to eat anything.

"I've got everything wedding related that I could find in the house." Eri told him, words difficult to decipher through the mouthful of the huge bite she'd taken out of the last of the croissants. "That way I have the material on hand if we have to make any new arrangements."

"Okay." He was relieved, most brides who hired people in their company had a habit of just sitting there and giving orders while the planner tried to keep up. Olive had been the main planner for most of the wedding, in fact he'd barely had the chance to meet with Eri just the two of them, but she at least had some practicality in her.

"Help yourself to breakfast and coffee." She sat at the table with a smile. "Thank you for this Stiles."

"I couldn't leave you stranded." Stiles replied, pouring coffee into the biggest mug he could see on the breakfast bar. "I'm going to warn you though, this is going to be a difficult job."

"I know. Don't worry Stiles, I'm not going to drop all of the work on you. I'm going to be here to help every day and Isaac has said he'll be here too when he can get away from work." She smiled happily at him and he had to return it. She seemed so laid back about it that he actually felt like they had a chance at pulling off the miracle.

"That's good to hear." He placed his laptop and folder on the table, pulling out the list of companies they'd hired for the original wedding.

"What's that?"

"This is the list of companies we've hired. I'm going to call all of them and beg them to let us move the day we've hired them. Most of them are going to refuse."

"That's a lot of companies."

"Yeah. So I'm going to call them and you're going to call everyone on your guest list" He laughed when he saw her expression. "We need to know how many guests you're going to have."

"Stiles we've got over a thousand guests!" She exclaimed in disbelief and he hesitated.

"Well you don't have to call them." He looked down at his list thoughtfully. "I suppose I could fit it in around talking to these people."

"Stiles…"

He looked up at the note of disapproval in her voice and he frowned when she glared at him. He didn't know what was wrong but he really didn't want fight with her on their first day of saving the wedding.

"If you had to call the guests as well you'd be here all week." She stated, picking up one of her own folders with a shake of her head. "I can't believe you even suggested that you'd be able to do it."

"It is my job Eri."

"It's your job to let me take advantage of you?" Her eyes were shining as she tried not to laugh and he shook his head before looking down at the list in his hands. "I thought so. Now you start making your calls, I'll start working on my list."

She was interesting to listen to on the phone. Olive was always demanding, whether it was in person or on the phone, the old bat barely varied her attitude but the second Eri was on the phone she became a polite refined young lady. Stiles found that he could barely connect the very proper girl making the calls with the one that stuffed her face full of cake and coffee in between every call.

She was very good at getting through the work load though. In the time that he called the caterers, dressmaker, minister, florist, and the table suppliers she'd managed a good chunk of the guest list. He smiled to himself when she poked her tongue out at the handset after what sounded like a very difficult conversation.

"Miserable bitch." She pulled a face and scribbled out six names on the list. "Well, at least that's six less stuck up snobs to deal with on my big day."

"Why were they invited in the first place?"

"She's my aunt unfortunately." Eri stood up, pouring both of them more coffee and picking absently at the bowl of grapes. "Married a man who is so far up his own arse that she's got stuck up there too. If I see her now all she does is go on and on about the man her daughter married, and the amazing children they've had."

"Are they amazing?"

"They're snobs and my cousins two daughters look like pigs dressed as humans." She sniffed, probably not realising how funny that sounded considering how well spoken she was. "They look down on Isaac."

"Yeah?"

"They think he's just some nobody in the army and they're so horrible to him." She ate a hell of a lot for someone who was stick thin. She hadn't stopped eating all day. "Mum insisted I invite them. In fact, mum insisted I invite most of them."

"It's your wedding though…"

She laughed and thrust a plate of food at him with a shake of her head. He just didn't understand how their world worked apparently.

"The honeymoon is for Isaac and I, the actual wedding is just a social climbing game for mum." She sat back down, smiling faintly at him. "Who else do you have to call?"

"The decorations woman, the wine company, musicians, car company, and the company providing the staff for the event." He reeled off, frowning.

"Dare I ask how many have had to refuse us the date change?"

"Well, you have the same minister." He told her carefully, trailing off when she seemed to expect more. "That's it."

"Oh my god. What am I going to do?"

"Keep calling your guests. It's going to be okay."

The worst part of saying that was that she believed him. She honestly thought he was calm and collected and would save her day when truthfully he felt that curling up in his bed and just giving up was the best option. He let her make the calls, he finished making his own and then he left, carefully planning his departure so that he could avoid an encounter with Olive Reyes.

* * *

><p>By the time he arrived at the office after lunch on Thursday he was even more panicked. The phone calls had led to the rather dismal situation where they had a minister and a large supply of alcohol. Personally he thought could lead to a very interesting social event but Eri wasn't exactly in agreement. She'd started crying, called Isaac, who had turned up and sent him home. He'd grabbed a sandwich at a petrol garage and driven to work, hoping that he may be able to convince someone to help him out.<p>

As usual he stopped via the coffee shop and wandered in with four coffees and his laptop bag nearly overflowing with his laptop and the folder for Eri's wedding.

The problem was that they already had coffees.

He'd have been perfectly happy if it was one of them that had gone to buy the coffee but it wasn't. It was a new face he didn't recognise.

"His name is Danny." Braeden stated when he stared at the new kid. He was a teenager, probably only just out of school, the same age that he'd been when he left school and joined the company. "He started Tuesday morning."

For someone who had only been in the office for two and a half days he was getting along very well with Jackson. A little too well. Jackson seemed to like the scrawny little brown haired prick a little too much as well. He was looking at him like he was dinner.

"You know, he used to look at you like that." Braeden told him with a wry smile as she turned to him. "Did you ever meet Henry?"

"Who?"

"He was the intern before you. I think he left the day you started." She sighed, glancing at Jackson and Danny with a frown. "What can I do for you today?"

"Uhm…" How was he supposed to have a real conversation with her when Jackson had his hand on Danny's back as he leant over him to explain something on the computer. Danny was fluttering his eyelashes at him and laughing at all the right points.

"Honey, just leave him be. Jackson never sticks around for long."

"What?"

"He was rutting with Henry before he hired you and now that you're nowhere near being classified as jailbait you may as well step aside so that he can rub his hands all over Danny." She said it so bluntly that Stiles sat heavily in the chair opposite her desk. "Funny, you look like someone just punched you."

"Feels like they just did." He whispered, looking down at his hands, forcing deep breaths into his lungs. "I need to go."

"Oh don't go yet." She grinned, that nasty grin she reserved for when she was about to cause havoc for someone. When she spoke again she was much louder. "Jackson! The runt needs a word."

Jackson leapt away from Danny as if he'd been burnt and spun, glaring at her when he saw that, yes, Stiles was actually in the room. He gestured to his office and Stiles meekly followed, not daring to risk looking at Danny in case the kid could somehow confirm that Braeden was definitely telling the truth.

"What do you want now?"

"I just…Eri…How long has he been here?"

"What are you rambling about?" Jackson sat in his stupid giant leather chair and gave him an impatient look.

"Danny. How long has he been here?"

"Two days." Jackson stared at him, face impassive. Stiles had always been comfortable with not being able to read Jackson's emotions on his face but at that moment he hated it. "Why are you in the office?"

"I needed to get one of my folders and ask if anyone had any favours-"

"You asked for favours on Monday." Jackson cut him off, irritable snapping at him. "Face it. You have to postpone it."

"But I've got a venue." Stiles scuffed his foot on the floor, barely able to meet Jackson's hard gaze. "I just need to know if anyone can help with rearranging the other stuff."

"Where?"

"The Hale estate."

"Rubbish. The Hale family never hires out the estate for these sorts of things. How much are the Reyes's paying for that?"

"Uhm, they're not."

"Are you lying to me?"

"No. It's a favour. They're not charging anything and the wedding is going to take place next to the lake house so the main house isn't disturbed too much." Stiles felt like he was justifying himself to Jackson when really it should have been the other way around.

"I see." Jackson sat back in his chair, watching Stiles for a moment. "Well regardless of that, unfortunately there's no way that anyone here can help you."

"Oh." He bit his lip and forced a smile. "That's okay. I'll think of something."

"You do that."

"Did you really mean it when you said you didn't want to see me until the wedding was over?"

Jackson's eyebrows rose at the sudden question and he smiled faintly.

"Is this your way of saying you want to meet up?" The phone began to ring but Jackson made no move to answer it.

"We haven't since Saturday." Stiles nodded and Jackson shrugged, reaching for the phone on the eighth ring. "So dinner? I'll cook."

Jackson nodded absently, gesturing for him to leave as he answered the phone and Stiles quickly left so that the boss could do his job and deal with whatever important client it was that had called. He didn't even care about Danny as he passed him on the way out but he did note with satisfaction that Braeden was drinking the coffee that he'd bought, and not the one Danny had fetched.

His good mood lasted even through the nightmare that was Tesco. He ignored the dawdling old people, the stressed out business people , and the irritated mums, bought the ingredients for the one meal he knew he could cook well and raced home.

He should have known.

He should have realised that just because he spent two hours almost destroying the kitchen in an attempt to create something good enough for Jackson, he wasn't necessarily going to have the evening he hoped for.

Jackson didn't show up.

The dinner overcooked and then went cold. He drank both bottles of wine all on his own and at midnight drunkenly stumbled to bed. Once he would have spent the evening calling Jackson but he just couldn't face being ignored or listening to excuses.


	4. Sail

Derek - 3, Stiles - 3

"You'd think with the amount that you cost, we wouldn't be stuck in this situation."

"If I'm spending this amount then I expect more dedication and better results."

It was nice to hear Olive's scathing tone directed at someone else for once. Beside him Eri was sniggering into her cornflakes, trying not to interrupt the woman as she ranted at the hairdresser that had cancelled on her last minute.

"Do you mind if I give today a miss?" Eri asked softly, rubbing her head sleepily. He reached up when she blinked in confusion, her engagement ring caught in her hair. "I have a dress fitting this afternoon anyway and then we were going to drive up to Isaac's house. He hasn't seen his parents in four months."

"It's fine. I've got four appointments with florists. You won't have to meet them until you need to actually pick which flowers you want." He replied, stepping back once he'd freed her hand and handing her a slip of paper. "That's my email address. If you can't get me by phone just send an email and I'll get it as soon as I log on."

"Cool. See you on Monday morning."

He gave her a nod, waved to Olive, who smiled at him and nodded without missing a single beat of her angry rant. Since he'd managed to find them a new venue she'd been much nicer to him, even going to far as to offer him tea when he arrived and Eri was still in bed.

On his way out he collided with someone just about to knock on the door.

"Hey kitty."

He groaned, quickly sidestepping but Derek caught his arm and pulled him back, trapping him in front of the door with a grin.

"That's not very nice." Derek scolded, shaking his head in mock disappointment and Stiles frowned up at him.

"Why are you here?"

"I came to offer you my services for the day."

"I don't need them."

"I think you do." Derek countered, grinning at him, too strong for Stiles to shove aside. "So I'm going to help you today."

"Wonderful. I hope you like flowers." Stiles ground out in defeat and Derek's grin dropped. "We've got four florists to visit today and that's all before lunch."

"You're joking."

"Nope. Still want to help me?" He was silently praying that he changed his mind but he knew deep down that it was too much to hope for. Marcus was the only person who could say no to Derek and actually win the fight.

"Of course." Derek was very convincing and Stiles couldn't help grinning as he stepped past him and started walking towards his car. Derek's smug expression was going to vanish soon enough.

"Where's your car?"

"Don't have one with me." Derek smirked at him again and gestured to Stiles's car. "So I have to go with you in that thing."

There was no way the day could get any worse really. He clenched his fists but didn't comment, it would have been too much hassle to deal with really. He even managed to ignore Derek's expression once they were inside the car and he saw how cluttered it was.

"Stiles, you're a slob." Derek announced once he'd dumped the seven empty water bottles and the carrier bag of sandwich wrappers on the back seat. "How can you stand this?"

"You get used to it." Stiles muttered, suddenly embarrassed. "It's not so bad."

"You can't see the floor!"

"Oh shut up."

"Why? Am I bothering you?"

He scowled, deciding not to bother replying and turned the key in the ignition. Before Derek could gloat or rub salt in the wound he flicked the CD player on and turned the volume up, enjoying the restrained expression on Derek's face as ABBA started to play loudly.

Derek – 1, Stiles – 1.

Maybe the day wouldn't be quite so bad after all.

The first florist was plump middle aged woman with a really scary flowery cardigan and the lowest cut top he'd seen in a long time. She took one look at Derek and she was all over him. Stiles felt like a spare wheel as he hovered, watching as Derek was given a drink, a slice of cake and even offered a chair.

"Are you here to buy your girlfriend some flowers?" She asked as she placed her hand over his for the third time and Stiles bit his lip when Derek shot him a dirty look. "A man like you can't be single."

"Uh."

"So good looking. If I was a little younger…"

It was brilliant. Stiles smothered his snigger at the complete helplessness when she tried to give him a heated look. He was ready to run away but there was no way Stiles was going to let the fun end so soon.

"He's the one that wants the flowers." Derek managed to blurt out, flicking a hand in Stiles's direction and the woman barely spared him a glance.

"Oh?"

"Yes." Stiles nodded, still trying not to laugh as she fussed over Derek. "For my wedding. Derek doesn't have a girlfriend."

Her face lit up. Derek almost leapt out of the chair to strangle him but Stiles darted off under the pretence of trying to find something for 'his' wedding. He made a quick note of what they had there before returning, clamping a hand over his mouth when he saw that she was leaning in to Derek, talking quietly. His brother's best friend was gripping the arms of the chair so tightly his knuckles had turned white.

"You can help Stiles can't you?" Derek asked wearily, eyes darting to the door when the old lady looked over at the wedding planner. "He needs some price quotes."

"When is the event dear?"

"Well that's the thing. We had some problems and we need the entire flower order by the sixth of September."

"How big is the wedding?"

"Roughly a thousand guests…"

As soon as the words left his mouth she lost all pretence of niceness and told him he had no chance. It gave Derek his opportunity to make his escape and Stiles followed after him as quickly as possible after she'd finished lecturing him on wasting her time.

"I can't believe you just left me with her!"

He couldn't help it. He laughed so hard he was nearly crying and Derek really didn't appreciate the lack of sympathy he received.

Derek – 1, Stiles – 2.

Not bad at all.

The second shop was an even bigger waste of time. The woman didn't do large orders and she didn't like to do weddings. Derek had refused to go in and Stiles was only in there for ten minutes, just long enough for her to apologetically refuse and offer him a free bunch of flowers. Derek gave him a questioning look and Stiles shrugged.

"I'll give them to Eri."

"I thought you were gay."

"I am, doesn't mean I like pink roses though."

"So why give them to Eri?"

"Because I don't want them."

"I have a better idea." Derek grabbed them and wound down the window, tossing them out onto the pavement as they drove along the dual carriageway.

"Are you done being childish now?"

"Yes."

The third shop was closed with no notice explaining why. Stiles looked through the windows, caught one look at the flowers that they were offering and ruled them out. Most of them were either dying, drooping, or fake.

"You picked some really awful flower shops." Derek commented idly, slouching in his chair. The map book was spread out in front of him but he wasn't helping Stiles find the last place at all.

"These were the only four that I could find that Olive hadn't already pissed off actually." Stiles retorted distractedly, squinting when he tried to read the road signs. "I think I missed the turning."

"Next left."

"This is the third time we've driven down this road and you're telling me that now?"

"Payback's a bitch."

"__You're__ a bitch." Stiles snapped, making the turn far too fast.

"Just to let you know, we've driven past the next place five times too. I just didn't tell you."

Derek – 2, Stiles – 2.

When they finally arrived, at which point Stiles was fed up with Derek being there, the owner greeted them with a bright grin. He was good looking and Stiles flushed when the man looped an arm around him and guided him toward the counter and the catalogues he had waiting.

"So what do you need these flowers for?" The manager of the pretty little florist had the most perfect brown eyes Stiles had ever seen and his mouth went dry when he was supposed to reply. It didn't help that the man's hand had started drifting down his back.

Unfortunately that gave Derek his opportunity.

"Our wedding."

Stiles almost choked but the second he'd said it the man's arm retracted and he gave Stiles a once over, disappointment on his face.

"Pity." He looked at Derek. "You're a lucky man."

Derek – 3, Stiles – 2.

He also refused them. He had a waiting list and September was just too busy for him to take on such a big project. He did attempt to give Stiles his number but Derek intercepted that and led Stiles out with a possessive arm wrapped around his shoulders.

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

"Yes actually, I do."

"No, you really don't." Derek was grinning as Stiles slammed a hand on the steering wheel. "And that's why you're mad. Not because I've upset you, but because you can't be mad at me."

"Get over yourself."

"You should know it's not that easy to get over me."

"I swear I'm going to stab you in the leg with my pen if you don't back off." The threat did nothing to make Derek apologise or back off, instead the man just flashed that annoying smile at him and tapped his nose.

"Do you want me to buy you a scratching post?"

He didn't stab him in the leg.

He gave him a dead leg instead.

Derek - 3, Stiles - 3.

* * *

><p>It was starting to get dark when he finally managed to get rid of Derek, probably some time past ten at night but he didn't know for sure because the clock in his car had stopped working the previous winter when he accidentally left a window open and the frost got inside.<p>

He was still scolding himself about that when the engine made an odd whining sound and started letting off smoke.

"No!" Stiles just about managed to get the car onto the hard shoulder before it stopped altogether and he thumped his head on the steering wheel in frustration.

Forty minutes drive from him, roughly twenty miles, and he had no break down cover because he'd forgotten to contact the company and pay for the next year. That meant no one would rescue him and he couldn't walk all that way at night. Hell, he'd never walked that far in his life.

With a reluctant sigh he located his phone and dialled Jackson's number. He didn't really have anyone else to turn to and that little fact stung. Friends were just something he'd never really been able to keep.

"What?" Jackson was, yet again, not happy to receive a call from him.

"Uhm, are you busy?" He didn't like how timid he sounded.

"Yes."

He heard someone talking in the background but he didn't recognise the voice and bit his lip. Jackson did a lot of work in meeting clients and taking them out for meals to arrange contracts.

"What do you want?"

"My car broke down."

"So?" That one word hurt more than being stood up the night before. The voice in the background grew louder and he heard Jackson let out a frustrated sigh. "Just walk home. Get someone to drive you to your car tomorrow."

And he hung up.

Who exactly were you supposed to turn to when your boyfriend let you down?

The only other number in his phone that wasn't a client or a company they used at work was Marcus and his mum. His mum couldn't drive, and wouldn't help him anyway, which left Marcus.

"Are you okay?" Marcus was concerned, probably because usually called Marcus when he was in trouble, the most memorable was years before when a boyfriend had given him a split lip and kicked him out without any of his money.

"My car broke down." He admitted sheepishly, fascinated by the breath of relief he heard from Marcus. "Do you think you can come and get me?"

"Where are you?"

"About twenty miles out of the city. I just dropped Derek home."

"I'm at Derek's, I'll be there in a few minutes."

He arrived in record time and rolled his eyes when he saw that Stiles was hovering next to the car. He'd made a few comments on how useless his car was in the past and the smug look was just as bad as an 'I told you so.'

"Have you called the AA?"

"Don't have breakdown cover."

"Why not?"

"Because I forgot to renew it this year. I didn't think I'd need it."

"Get in my car. I'll call a friend."

Marcus didn't take him home, he took him straight to his own house in one of the nicer streets, and Stiles was thankful for the heating and the warm water. His own hot water could be quite elusive. Marcus gave him a pair of his own pyjamas, a pair he'd forgotten even existed, and left him in the spare room. He was probably annoying his brother, he kept apologising and thanking him too much. In the end Marcus probably just went to bed to get away from him.


	5. Stolen Dance

Talking

This chapter is dedicated to .3 for being the first one to comment/PM. Thanks girl :)

* * *

><p>"Wow."<p>

He'd never woken up to the sight of coffee and croissants waiting for him before. It certainly wasn't something Jackson or his other boyfriend's had ever done and Marcus hadn't even known how to boil the kettle when they were growing up. He stretched, loving how comfortable the mattress was, and reached for the piece of paper tucked under one of the croissants.

****Kid,****

****Gone to work. Eat, you're too skinny.  
>If you're up for it I'm going to be at dad's<br>tomorrow for a roast. Drop in. He misses you.****

****Call Derek about your car.****

He wrinkled his nose in irritation. He really didn't want to do either of those things. Derek was driving him up the wall and his mum was just a subject better off left alone. He practically inhaled the croissants though, before he hastily dressed, washed his plate and mug, and left.

Somehow, he found himself wondering what Marcus did for a living, it wasn't something he'd ever asked him, or even thought about but his house was big, and very nice both inside an out. Part of him felt like he should know, but then again, Marcus hadn't known he was a wedding planner had he? Why should he make an effort when his big brother didn't? Sure they spent time together and had film marathons every other month but they rarely sat and really talked. Part of him didn't want to talk about anything serious with his brother because he didn't exactly have any sort of achievements to talk about. It would just be a big moaning session about the past mistakes and his messed up relationships.

A quick check of his phone and he bit his lip. Jackson had tried to call him for some reason, maybe because he felt guilty for telling him to walk home. Stiles felt a grin settle on his face as he checked the bus timetable before ringing Jackson.

"Hello?"

That…

He bit his lip. Confusion filling him.

"Hello?"

It wasn't Jackson who was answering his phone. In fact, the voice was exactly the same as the voice from the night before. Had Jackson met with the client for breakfast or had the client stayed the night?

"Hey loser, either hang up or talk." Whoever he was he wasn't very old, not many of their clients used the word 'loser' so easily or in that context.

Stiles hung up, mind reeling as he tried to catch up and understand what had just happened. Had Jackson actually been with a client or was that someone else? A nephew? A friend? Or was he just fooling himself and living in denial. Maybe Braeden was right about Jackson and Danny. So what if the kid looked like jailbait, he'd not been much older than him when he first met Jackson.

Or maybe it was a wrong number? He might have accidentally pressed the wrong key.

He rang again. When the same person answered he hung up and quickly switched his phone off.

He'd talk to Jackson another day.

"Well well well! Look who it is! Hello Stiles."

"Derek?" It came out as a groan when he recognised the owner of the car that had stopped beside the old bus stop and Derek grinned, leaning over to unlock the passenger seat door.

"Get in."

"No."

"Don't argue. I've spent most of the night dealing with your piece of shit car so get in right now or I'll just follow you home." The threat was given with a grin but Stiles knew he meant it and he let his eyes dart skyward before obeying. "Good boy."

"Are you purposely going out of your way to invade my life?" He didn't care how rude he was being, Derek just did his head in.

"Yes. Don't forget, you owe me big time Kitty."

They made the journey back to the Hale estate in record time. Mainly because Derek drove like a maniac, foot right to the floor, and Stiles had to close his eyes and grip the handle on the door in fear for his life. Derek didn't notice, he just turned the music up and let ACDC blare out of the speakers as loud as possible.

Maybe he should have just given him that stupid pole dance, at least then he wouldn't have the debt hanging over his head.

"Why are we here?" He practically pried his hand from the door handle once they were safe and stationary.

"You need a car." Derek shrugged and ruffled his hair with a lazy grin. "Your awful piece of crap is in the garage and will be for a couple of weeks for repairs so I'm lending you one of mine."

"That's insane." He struggled to smooth down his hair down as he gaped at Derek.

"Not at all." Derek winked at him as he unlocked the door to huge hangar he kept his cars in. "We'll just add it to your debt."

Oh that was fucking fantastic.

He caved very quickly though, practicality winning over his pride. He didn't want the super expensive cars that Derek offered. He chose the red Mini Cooper tucked away in the corner. Even in the council estate he lived in that would be conspicuous but at least it wouldn't be as bad as a two seater Ferrari.

"What exactly are you going to claim from me for this debt?" Stiles asked idly, fiddling with the car keys as he leant against his new temporary car.

"Still harping on about that?"

"Just tell me what you want from me!"

"I would but watching you squirm is much more fun." Derek snorted, stepping up close and cupping his cheek. "Or are you changing your mind about that pole dance?"

Stiles shoved him, irritation growing when he saw Derek's smirk turn into a grin. For some reason the more he fought against Derek the more the man enjoyed it. He was ready to hit him when Derek dropped the arrogant act and checked his watch.

"Sorry Kitty, how about I apologise with lunch? I'll pay. You can test drive the Cooper."

"Will you stop mocking me?"

"Can't really make any concrete promises but I'll try."

He accepted. God knows why, but he did. Oddly, he didn't regret it either.

The drive was good, the car was a dream in comparison to his awful falling to pieces Ford Fiesta, and Derek stayed quiet unless he was giving directions. They went to the coast, the drive taking well over an hour, but Stiles liked the little place. There was the main town and then at the bottom of the hill, right on the water's edge was what was left of a fishing village.

"There's a restaurant along here."

"Could we…" Stiles trailed off when Derek turned to him. "I can smell fish and chips."

"Yeah sure." Derek nodded and instead of going to the right he took the left fork in the road.

They got the biggest fish and chips that Stiles had ever seen and walked down to the sea wall. It was nice to be sitting on the wall and watching the seagulls wobble around on the mud left behind by the tide. Stiles assumed that when the tide was in the view was much prettier.

"How did you end up as a wedding planner?" Derek asked curiously, handing him one of the wooden chip forks. "I never thought you were the sort to be organised."

"I'm not really. Not at home anyway." Stiles admitted, taking the fork and stabbing a chip. "It's different with work though. Easier."

"So how did you end up there? I don't know anything about what you've been doing since you ran away."

"Well, when mum found out I was gay things at home were difficult. I don't think you were ever there for when she got angry about it but I know Marcus saw it a couple of times. She used to call me names and tell me what a horrible person I was." It was odd to realise that he didn't feel the usual sadness when he thought of his last few months living with her. "One day I just had enough and I left with nothing but the clothes I was wearing and my school bag."

"Where did you go?"

"One of the teachers at school gave me to the social services. I uh, he found out I was sleeping at the school. I lasted three months with a foster family before I turned sixteen and then I dropped out of college and got a job in a clothes shop. I slept in the store room there until one of the other guys found me and he let me room with him for a while." Stiles hesitated, rubbing his head. "Not long after that I called Marcus, the guy who took me in wanted payment. When I refused he beat me up. Marcus put me up until mum found out where I was and then I left the city for a couple of months before coming back with my tail between my legs."

"Still doesn't explain the wedding planning."

"I jumped from job to job for a few years. Sleeping rough sometimes, I had a flat with a friend for a while but then his boyfriend moved in and I was intruding on them. I did a couple of A levels in night classes at college. I also went through a stage of going clubbing at night so that I had somewhere to be at night. Eventually I got myself a council flat." Stiles smiled to himself, remembering how attached he'd been to his flat at the beginning. It was the first time he had a roof over his head that was solely his own. "Then I met Jackson. I was working in a coffee shop at the weekends and he offered me a job when he realised that I had all of the regulars' coffee orders memorised."

"Jackson?"

"My uh, well, he's sort of my boyfriend I guess."

"Things not going too well?" Derek's smile had faded and Stiles surprised himself by nodding truthfully.

"It's just difficult because we work together." Stiles muttered, staring down at his chips. "What about you? Marcus said you went travelling after school."

"With dad." Derek pulled a face. "You've met him. My father is a difficult man to please. He decided he wanted to train me to take over the business. He goes all over the place so I got to see a lot of cities. I missed home though."

"So you stay here and he keeps travelling?"

"Pretty much. I'm doing well keeping things running smoothly here so he's happy."

"Is that what you wanted to do with your life?" Stiles had always wondered about that. So many people like Derek were forced to be something they weren't.

"Yes. Probably surprising but I enjoy it. I basically have to socialise for a living." Derek clumsily managed to chop a chunk of his fish off with his chip fork. "Do you like your job?"

"Sort of. I don't really have much choice though. I don't have any real qualifications so my options are limited."

"I think you'd be surprised. You have A levels, that's more than a lot of people have." Derek stole the biggest chip from Stiles's portion. "What would you prefer to do then?"

"Something similar, something that involves working with people, on projects and maybe some travelling." Stiles hesitated, staring forlornly at the chip Derek was dangling in front of him. "That's my chip."

"You can have it back for a price."

"Why does everything have to have a price with you?"

"It's a character flaw I've come to accept in myself."

"You're infuriating."

"Is that necessarily a bad thing?"

"And why do you do that? You have to have the last word all the time!"

"That's just another character flaw I'm afraid."

"I assume it's another one that you've accepted."

"You shouldn't make assumptions Stiles, it can get messy."

The conversation was dropped when a seagull flew too close and Stiles panicked, dropping his food down into the mud ten feet below them. Derek laughed until Stiles reached out and tapped his polystyrene tray, sending Derek's meal tumbling after his own.

"You're so childish." Derek snorted, not at all bothered. "Ice cream?"

"If you're paying."

"Cheapskate."

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry I think I heard you wrong."<p>

His mouth was dry as he listened to Eri sob down the phone. He was desperately hoping that he'd misheard because it sounded suspiciously like she'd just told him that the dress maker had done a runner with her dress and her money.

"She's gone Stiles. That dress belonged to my mother! She took a family heirloom and run away with my money!" Eri, apparently, had the ability to be as high pitched as Olive could.

"Oh shit."

"Shit! Shit doesn't cover it! Mother is going to kill me! She adored that dress. She kept it for forty-seven years and now it's gone." Eri screeched at him and he winced, holding the phone away from his ear.

"Eri I don't know what you want me to do. We can go to the police station but beyond that…"

"I know. God I'm sorry Stiles." She sniffled, blowing her nose. "I just can't help feeling like this wedding isn't meant to be."

"Rubbish." He scoffed, remembering the look on Isaac's face whenever he saw him look at Eri. "We've just hit a few hurdles. At the end of the day that's what life is made up of. We can get through this. I'll research dress shops for you. It won't be the dress you wanted but I'm sure we can find something."

"What do I do about mum?"

"I'd suggest telling her at the right moment."

"Good idea. I'll make sure we're alone so that there isn't someone to fire during her temper tantrum." Eri's sniffing was stopping and he slumped in his bed, glancing at the clock. "Are you still okay to meet the minister with me for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Yes of course."

"Wonderful. I'll see you tomorrow." She was sounding more calm, more like her usual self. "And I'm sorry for shouting."

"It's fine." With a sigh he hung up and reached for his laptop, fingers dancing over the keys as he began a new search for dress makers.

He really didn't know what else would go wrong. He wasn't sure he wanted to find out.

* * *

><p>Quick author note: I guess that most of you didn't take a look at my others fanfictions, but just so you know: I'm not American, Australian or British. I'm 100% French and I only started to learn English 5 years ago. So I quickly apologize if I make any annoying mistakes, just point them and I will try to fix it :)<p> 


	6. Who We Are

One down and four to go.

Big shoutout to ColleyyPerryy for being the first 'official' reviewer!

* * *

><p>With a whole week already behind them Stiles realised that he needed to step up his game. He didn't bother with updating the others at the office on Monday. He just skipped dropping in, meaning he didn't deliver anyone's post, collect anyone's coffee, or buy anyone a newspaper. It felt a bit like his own mini rebellion and he was in a good mood when he arrived just in time to meet Eri.<p>

"I'm so sorry about all of that yesterday Stiles. Isaac said I was horrible for screaming at you." She hugged him, completely throwing him off balance. "He's just parking the car, said I've had too much pressure and he's going to help with the plans."

Isaac thought Eri had too much pressure on her? That was interesting considering he was technically doing a hell of a lot more than she was when it came to making any arrangements. All she'd really done was make the calls or email guests to tell them about the date change.

"Okay. Well you two meet with the minister then and I'm going to try to get us some tables to hire." He really didn't want to spend too much time around the sneering Isaac or some religious man.

She agreed happily, linking her arm with Isaac's and wandering along beside him, talking eagerly. Isaac was listening, an expression on his face that made Stiles look away. As much as he disliked the man Isaac genuinely loved Eri with everything he had. Jackson would never look at him like that.

Back in the car he pushed aside the concerns for his personal life and started working through the companies that would hopefully give them the tables he desperately needed. Of course, that proved harder than it was supposed to be until eventually he got through to one woman. At first she was cold and unhelpful, at which point he got frustrated and threw in Olive Reyes's name and suddenly she was the most helpful person he'd ever encountered. She couldn't make any promises but she would contact him as soon as her boss was back from his holiday.

He was grinning when he got the text from Derek.

****How are you finding the Cooper?****

****Great. It's got a lot more floor space to fill up with dirty coke cans.****

****You better be joking.****

****You'll never know will you?****

****Trust me, I'll find out. See you soon.****

Derek wasn't half as bad when he wasn't being an idiot.

"Stiles!" Eri slid into the car with a laugh, waving a leaflet at him. "Isaac got a call. Harriet has the boats out so we're going to the Hale's to try them out."

Well that explained the whole 'see you soon' comment.

"Follow Isaac." She pointed dramatically at the car pulling out of the church car park and he nodded, silently debating whether or not he was irritated at Derek for making his plans for him without asking if he was even available to look at the stupid boats.

"Are you sure about having the boats at the wedding?"

"Yes. If they're the ones I think they are then they're going to be perfect. Do you think I shouldn't have them?" Eri never seemed to care what anyone thought so the fact that she even asked was unexpected.

"If you want them that's all that matters. I just don't want people pushing you into more than they already are." That was the most diplomatic he could make his reply and she just rolled her eyes at him.

"Yes or no?"

"Eri…"

"Just give me an honest answer. Stop telling me what you think I want to hear."

"It's my job to tell you what you want to hear." He was getting uncomfortable. Why couldn't she have gone with Isaac?

"Yes or no?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not a fan of those boats."

"I sense a story here." She turned the radio down and turned in her seat, expectant.

"Well this one time at band camp…"

"Stiles just tell me the story."

"It's nothing really." He liked Eri but he wasn't completely sure he could trust her with things.

"Stiles!"

"Fine. When I was a kid Derek and Marcus rowed me out to the middle of the lake, threw me into the lake, and started to row back to shore." He forced the story out, missing off a few facts, like the fact that they'd tricked him onto the boat, and Derek had pushed him into a muddy ditch a couple of hours before. He'd been daft to even step into the boat really.

"That's it?" She had one eyebrow arched as she stared at him and he sighed. The story was lacking one important detail.

"I can't swim."

"Oh." She frowned, tilting her head thoughtfully as she settled in her chair properly again. "I wouldn't expect that from Derek."

"He'd never do that now. Back then I was just the annoying little brother of his best friend who cried a lot, followed them round, and fell over all the time." He shrugged, playing it down to make her leave the subject and she nodded.

"Well, I want the boats. I __can__ swim and I like the lake."

"Which is why I said all that mattered was whether you wanted them."

She nodded and thankfully dropped the subject, not talking again until they were approaching the lake. Isaac was ahead, already greeting Derek with a handshake and a laugh for whatever it was that Derek said to him. Eri hugged Derek, and then rather abruptly dragged Isaac away to examine one of the ornate rowing boats floating at the shore.

"Told you I'd see you soon."

"Yeah. Oh, thank you." Stiles accepted the thermos full of coffee, surprise on his face, and bit his lip when Derek winked at him and followed after the happy couple.

What he'd said to Eri was definitely the truth; Derek had changed a lot since his childhood. He was a grown up and although he had his moments, like the night in the club and the day searching for the florist, where Stiles just wanted to kick him, he was much nicer.

"Can we try them out?" Eri was hopping from foot to foot with anticipation like a little kid.

"Go ahead." Derek turned to look at him. "Stiles? Want to join us?"

"I'll give it a miss."

"Oh come on." Derek caught his sleeve, tugging him forward. "It'll be fun."

"No."

"Spoilsport." Derek actually had the nerve to pick him up and force him onto the boat.

"I'm not joking!" Stiles hissed at him, trying to scramble off the boat to no avail.

He took it all back. Derek hadn't changed. He was still a bully. He was still bossy. He was also going to get a face full of hot coffee any second. Eri was watching with concern but it was Isaac that saved him. He stepped forward and caught Stiles's hand before he fell in.

"Maybe you can take Eri out for me; I'm still recovering from a shoulder injury." He helped Stiles onto dry land with surprising care and Derek reluctantly nodded, disappointment on his face.

Still, Eri enjoyed herself. She clambered all over the boat, making Isaac laugh as Stiles sat beside him on the lake house steps, sulking. He was disappointed in Derek.

"Cut him some slack." Isaac finally looked at him, face expressionless.

"What?"

"Derek. Give him a chance and he'll stop upsetting you."

"I don't understand."

"You're hopeless." The declaration confused him that all he could do as Isaac stood and walked away was stare blankly after him.

When a spark of suspicion hit him he stood up, opened his mouth to demand an explanation, and then Eri's howling laughter was followed by a splash. He spun in time to see her grab the oars and started to row away from where Derek surfaces, spluttering and gasping for air.

For some reason he didn't hate boats half as much anymore.

Maybe Eri could be trusted too.

* * *

><p>It began again the next day. At first the day was standard, he ate, drove to Eri's house and they started making desperate calls. Some companies thought they were joking, others actually hung up when they gave the size of the order and the date of the wedding. Stiles gave Eri encouraging pep talks, watched as she ate her weight in chocolate, and between the two of them they actually managed to get through the entire supply of coffee beans.<p>

On Tuesday Derek strolled into the kitchen with Isaac, Tennis racket in his hand.

"Good afternoon." Isaac greeted with a smirk before kissing Eri's cheek.

"Good afternoon." She beamed at him when he held out a book. "Oh my god! You got it! But it's not even going to be released for another week!"

"You said you wanted it." Isaac kissed her again, tilting her face up gently. "So you've got it."

"Can I have a pony?"

The joke made Isaac laugh, more than Stiles thought was necessary so he assumed it was some sort of in joke that only the two of them understood. He looked away, gaze stopping on Derek, who gestured for him to follow him outside.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" Stiles was confused, apologies were not something that Derek did often. At least, not to him.

"Eri told Isaac that you can't swim. I didn't realise." Derek actually looked distressed. "I wouldn't have tried to force you onto the boat if I'd known."

"Right." Stiles scuffed his foot on the floor, staring at Derek. "Don't worry about it."

"I am though. You don't like me very much do you?"

"What makes you think that?" He didn't deny or confirm it either way. He wasn't really sure which of the two he should have been doing.

"You really do let everyone else walk all over you. Then, the second you're face to face with me you're on the defence. It's like you expect an attack all the time."

"Considering our history do you find that surprising?"

"Our history?"

"You were a bully when we were children." Stiles said slowly, not sure why he didn't like the frown growing on Derek's face.

"We were just kids."

"I nearly drowned in that lake because you picked on me when 'we were just kids' so forgive me for not accepting that as an answer." There was an aspect of truth though. Derek had never done anything shitty to him like Jackson had and yet he still bent over backwards for his boss/boyfriend whereas he was sharp with Derek even when he was being nice.

"We're not kids anymore now." Derek told him, voice tight. "We can move past that."

"Derek…"

"You just don't get it do you?"

"I get it. You're not going to bully me anymore-"

"No you don't get it!" Derek slammed his hand against the wall to the side of Stiles and he sighed. "I'm being nice to you now Stiles. Why can't you focus on that instead of what I did when I was just a kid?"

"Why should I?"

"Because I want you to!"

"Well that's just not good enough." He retorted angrily, his own voice rising as Derek's did.

"Why?"

"Oh for crying out loud! We're going in circles here. What do you want from me? Is this about the debt?"

"No."

"Then what do you want?"

"You really don't know do you?" The way he said it, like it hurt that Stiles didn't know, made some of the anger fade. Whatever it was, it was upsetting Derek. "Let me take you out to dinner."

"You bought me dinner the other day though."

"No. I mean let me do this properly. Let me pick you up, take you out, buy you dinner, drop you home…"

"Oh."

Finally he understood. It made sense. Derek liked him, or at the very least, just wanted a fling. That was why he was being so pushy and trying too hard. He wanted something and Stiles wasn't being receptive.

He didn't really have an excuse for what he did next and when Eri asked he didn't even try to explain. He just ran away. Left his folder, his phone, and his wallet on the table. Thankfully he had his car keys in his hoody pocket.

* * *

><p>Author Note: Just a quick idea I got: If you guys leave a review, with your opinion (a real critic, not just two words), I will send you a PM with a sneakpeak of the next chapter.<p> 


	7. She Looks So Perfect

Relentless

**CherieMarie**: thank you very much for your review ! Unfortunately, because you disabled the PM feature, I can't send you a preview of the next chapter. I actually have another project in mind, that I'm starting to write, because I completed that day. It will be 22 chapters length with a slow Sterek build!

**Guest**: I wanted to show how dense Stiles can be! I can't really answer those questions but yes, Jackson is gonna get what's coming for him. But in a long, long time!

**Mauricette**: well, what a pleasure to read from a fellow French fanfictioneuse! (Let's start in Frenglish!) I was in my "SES" class, bored as fuck, when I saw your review, so you can imagine my happiness! My smile got even bigger when I noticed your nationality! Yes, Stiles is totally hopeless. But you'll see that once he start dating Derek, he won't get any better! I was kinda afraid that my Derek and Stiles were too OOCs but my Stiles is pstarting to really think like what I think Stiles think Likes. (Really long sentence with a lot of likes, but I'm working on Germinal, so I am not really in the mood to make awesome sentencs in English!) bref bref, c'était un vrai plaisir de te lire et de t'écrire, n'hésite pas à commenter, et si par hasard tu commences à écrire, préviens moi et je serais ravie de te lire! Des bisous

* * *

><p>An hour of fruitless interrogation left Eri with no explanation but a brief account of the revelation before Stiles insisted they start work. She agreed, mainly because they'd not managed to get anything done the previous afternoon due to Stiles being 'a childish coward' and running off.<p>

"Oh yeah, Derek did say that he would talk to his father. He thinks he may be able to help with the musicians." Eri announced over the dodgy chicken pasta that they'd struggled to put together. She was worse at cooking than he was and that was saying something.

"That's good."

"Do you like him even a little bit Stiles?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

She shut her mouth, surprised at his snapped statement, it was the first time he'd spoken that way to anyone in front of her. She wasn't happy but let the subject go.

"I did have a thought this morning." He said quickly, attempting to change the subject. "I remember you mentioned that you wanted a horse and carriage but your mother refused and insisted on hiring a fancy car. Well, seeing as the car company have let us down we could look into horses."

"Really?"

"If you still want to. There's a place not too far from Derek's house who hire out their horses and the carriages. I can drop in there on the way here tomorrow." The offer made her smile, his abrupt tone from earlier forgotten as she quickly started writing it down onto their list.

When Derek walked into the kitchen with a golf bag over his shoulder he froze, accusing eyes darting between Eri and Isaac as they quickly retreated.

"Are you stalking me?"

"Not at all. I just decided the weather was nice for a game of golf." Derek replied quickly, moving to block the door. "You being here is just a bonus."

"Just leave me alone."

"No."

"Derek! This isn't some stupid power game."

"I don't recall saying that it was." The taller man managed to catch his arm and Stiles kicked him in the shin. Hard. "Shit! What the hell is your problem."

"Just leave me alone." He fled again, stopping to grab his folder and phone.

He was half way home when he received the text.

****We're going to talk about this Stiles. I'm not having you running away from your problems every day when we're supposed to be planning my wedding.****

Guilt made his stomach clench as he realised how many hours they were going to be set back.

****I'm sorry.****

He knew he shouldn't reply when he was driving but he didn't care, he was still fuming at Derek.

****Just try to be more adult about it. Derek's dad gave him a number for someone he knew. I have a string quartet for the wedding now. He's doing more for me than you have so far.****

With Eri in a snit he realised that he was more mad at himself for being so childish. So what if Derek wanted to date him? He was at least being honest. He'd give up eventually too, no one could chase someone forever.

The problem was that it was just so easy to get wound up when it came to Derek and he wasn't sure how long he'd be able to say no. When he wasn't being a maniac Derek was actually good company.

* * *

><p>The next morning he dropped via the office to collect a list of contacts from Braeden. She'd emailed him to tell him she'd give him the list in exchange for a decent coffee so he'd made sure to grab her sickly double cream caramel latte with four sugars and a strawberry and white chocolate muffin. The second she saw his present she'd given him a thin smile.<p>

"Here you go petal." She winked at him when Jackson stood up, quickly coming out of his office. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"Stiles. A word." Jackson called from the door and Stiles took the list from her with a smile before rushing over to him.

"Hey."

"Where did you get that car?"

"A friend." Stiles frowned, uneasy at how annoyed Jackson seemed to be. "Mine is getting repaired."

"Who?"

"Uhm, Derek Hale. My brother's best friend." He stammered, not sure what he'd done wrong but Jackson nodded, relaxing. "I uh tried to ring you. At the weekend."

"Right." Jackson sat down, eyeing him. "I didn't have any missed calls."

"Someone answered for you." He didn't mean to be accusing but he wanted to know who it was that had picked up Jackson's phone. "A man."

"Oh, my nephew."

"I thought your nephew was fourteen."

"He's a teenager. His voice is deeper now." Jackson arched his eyebrows, hostility growing. "Are you trying to make some sort of accusation?"

"No!"

"Then what?"

"Nothing. I was just curious." He shouldn't have brought the subject up at all. "I thought it was a client."

"Why would a Client answer my phone at eight on a Saturday?"

"I don't know."

Silence. Suffocating, horrible silence, and Stiles had to desperately work to stop his mouth from filling the gap with what Jackson referred to as prattle.

"There's a meal tomorrow night. It's for our high profile clients and I need a dinner date." Jackson's announcement made Stiles freeze and he smiled at Jackson, a little stunned at the offer. "I'll pick you up at seven."

It was the first time Jackson had ever wanted him to be at his side in public and it was definitely a good thing. Maybe it was because they'd been spending so much time apart what with him working outside of the office for Eri's wedding.

Half way along the dual carriageway his phone rang, the display showing the number for the company that supplied tables.

"Hello!"

"Is this Stiles?"

"Yes."

"My secretary insisted I call you as soon as got into work this morning." The man sounded a bit bemused and Stiles couldn't help but cross his fingers. "Something about you needing tables?"

"Thank you for calling back."

"Not a problem, I'm hoping you're going to be good on your word. I've got eighty tables large enough to seat twenty that are unclaimed for the sixth. Is that what you were looking for?" The man had an accent, a thick scouse one that made him a little difficult to understand but Stiles got the gist of it.

"We'll need at least fifty of those just for the guests and maybe another five for drinks, cake, and all of that sort of thing. How many can I hire?" He was smiling so much his cheeks were starting to hurt.

"All of them if you want but fifty-five should cover you." The man suggested, his words followed shortly by the sound of paper being shuffled. "If you can drop in this afternoon I'll have all of the paperwork ready."

"Thank you!"

"I'll text the address and directions to this number and I'll see you at three."

Even Derek's presence at Eri's house didn't affect his good mood. He slammed the list down on the table with a wide grin when Eri blinked at him sleepily. He was beginning to understand that she was not a morning person.

"These eight companies supply table decorations and I've got us fifty five tables."

She woke up properly when he said it and grabbed his hands, leading him into some strange sort of victory dance that had both Isaac and Derek staring at them with odd expressions. Eri just poked her tongue out at Derek before kissing Isaac enthusiastically.

"So why are you here today?" Stiles asked as Derek edged towards him, throwing Derek off balance. He wasn't snapping or kicking him so he was probably a bit confused.

"We're going horse riding. Isaac wanted to see these horses that you've suggested to Eri."

"Well have fun with that." Stiles waved a hand in dismissal and sat at the table with Eri once Isaac and Derek were gone. "I have gossip for you."

"Oh?" She was instantly intrigued and his grin grew.

"I have a date tomorrow tonight."

"With Derek?" She looked so happy and he shook his head, grin drooping when her expression darkened. "Who?"

"With my boyfriend, sort of. He's my boss and this is the first time he's wanted to be public about it." He explained, wanting her to be as happy as he was but she was shaking her head sadly at him. "What?"

"I just don't understand why you would choose this guy, who sounds like he's ashamed of you, over someone like Derek."

He swallowed, good mood gone, and turned to his laptop. She just didn't understand. He'd been waiting for so long for Jackson to finally want to acknowledge him in public. She was cold towards him for the rest of the day, even when they went to sign the paperwork for the table hire.

He left when Derek returned with Isaac, the latter announcing that the horse and carriage was booked and already paid for.

The worst part about all of it was that once it had sunk in that Jackson had invited him out he was a bit unsure. He didn't really want to go to dinner with him, he actually wanted to go to some tiny seaside town and eat greasy fish and chips on the sea wall.

He wasn't oblivious to the fact that the more time he spent with Derek, the less he thought about Jackson.

* * *

><p>"Well?" As usual Derek was at the Reyes house with Isaac but it was a bit of a relief to see him there. Stiles was getting used to it even if he was struggling to meet Derek's eyes.<p>

"I'm going pigeon shooting with Isaac." Derek said vaguely, frowning at him.

"Oh." Stiles bit his lip, wondering if Eri had told him about the date with Jackson. "Well, good luck."

"Are you busy tonight?" Derek asked quickly, grabbing his sleeve and Stiles nodded. "Oh."

Things were becoming more and more awkward between them since Derek's confession and Stiles was actually starting to wish that it could be the way it was when they were tormenting each other in the car and the flower shops.

"Well, if you find yourself at a loose end give me a ring." Derek was frowning more when Isaac gestured for him to follow.

"I told him." Eri stated from the kettle. "I thought he deserved to know."

"Right." Stiles bit his lip. He felt odd. Guilty. "What are we doing today?"

"Dress hunting."

"But you have a dress." Olive's arrival made Eri spin wildly, horror on her face and Olive looked between them. "You have five seconds to explain your expression Erica Reyes."

As far as he was concerned, even if she was interfering in his life, she still didn't deserve to be left at the mercy of Olive's tongue. The old bat was going to go mad.

"The dressmaker stole it and ran off with your money." He stated calmly when Eri froze, just staring helplessly at her mother.

"That dress was forty years old. It's worth a fortune. Have the police been informed?" Olive demanded, her expression that of someone who was sucking a lemon, and Stiles nodded. "Right. In that case, this time I shall do any necessary needlework myself I believe."

"We don't have a dress." Eri pointed out and Olive shook her head.

"That may not be true. Wait here."

"Do you think someone sedated her?" Eri whispered when they were alone and Stiles smothered a smile. "I'm not joking!"

"Maybe she just enjoyed her trip to the spa." He suggested, shrugging. "Eri, I know you like Derek but please stay out of it. I thought we were friends."

"We are." She turned to him, apologetic. "I just thought you like him too. You're so quiet and shy but you come to life when he's around. I've been encouraging him and now you've broken his heart."

That was a tad melodramatic of her.

"I'll talk to him."

"Okay."

"But you have to agree to leave things alone."

"I promise." She shuffled forward and hugged him, resting her chin on his shoulder. "And in return I want you to promise to be honest about Jackson."

"I've told you everything."

"Really?"

"Uhm…"

"Regardless of what you've told me Stiles, I think the least you could do is be honest to yourself about him. Do you really see yourself spending the rest of your life with him?" She let go as she heard footsteps approaching. "Because if you can't then why are you even with him?"

Olive returned with a dress that stunned him. It had to be ancient but it was actually perfect.

"That's beautiful." Eri breathed, moving forward. "Is that a real whalebone corset?"

"Yes. It was my grandmother's actually. Hand made, silk, whalebone and yes, I think you should try it." Olive handed it to her daughter with a smile. "Mother and I were never thin enough to attempt to wear it. I'd forgotten about it until one of the woman at the spa showed me a film about Queen Victoria."

Eri vanished with her mother, rambling on and on about the detailed embroidered pattern along the bodice. He waited patiently until she returned, Olive fussing behind her and adjusting the skirt. It was old, but at the same time had a timeless feel. A lot of the dresses in the shops suddenly looked like cheap fake copies. The fact that Olive was just like every other old woman who hoarded things just made him grin.

"I can adjust the bottom to the correct length." Olive decided with a firm nod. "This one looks better than mine did on you."

"I'm sorry about losing yours though."

"Erica, unless you paid the insipid woman to break the law I do not want to suffer through another apology." Olive scolded, shaking her head. "Now, please inform me that the rest of the wedding has been salvaged."

"We have the minister, the venue, the tables, the musicians, the boats for the lake, a horse and carriage to replace the cars and now the dress." Eri counted them off on her fingers sadly. "We're struggling."

"So I see." Olive didn't look very happy and her attention was switching towards the very quiet Stiles. "I take it you have some sort of action plan for how to act next."

"Yes." He hated that he squeaked in panic when she loomed up to him.

"What else is there to arrange?"

"The florist, food, decorations and centre pieces, staff and the honeymoon."

"The honeymoon is being taken care of actually." Eri announced, giving Stiles a look. "Derek bullied Isaac into letting him help out. They're becoming quite good friends."

Yet another thing Derek was doing that would inadvertently help him. Stiles nodded slowly, silent as he tried not to focus on quite how much Derek had been doing to help him since he'd asked him for that first favour.

He had to wonder how much of that he was going to have to pay back.

* * *

><p>AN: Just like last chapter, a <em>real<em> review= a preview. I'm not doing this to get reviews, I am doing this to get critics.

next chapter tomorrow at 5PM approximately, French hour.

I also have another projectm which is a Danny/Jackson with an awesome Stiles with a major case of ADHD.

Love.


	8. Boum Boum Boum

**Glug It Down**

**CherieMarie**: Stiles is mostly with Jackson because he is afraid of what will happen when he is not with him anymore. The reason(s) of Stiles' anxiety will be revealed in a few chapters! But you are partly right. :)

* * *

><p>He was ready before Jackson arrived, somehow he managed to refrain from opening a bottle of wine to calm his nerves, and when he finally arrived Jackson was smiling.<p>

"You've made an effort." Jackson commented, greeting him with a soft kiss, hand moving to cup his cheek. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah. I just need to check I locked the kitchen window."

Jackson waited patiently, looping an arm around his middle with another smile. It was like it was in the beginning of the relationship, Jackson was happy, and he was actually touching him. Back at the beginning he'd helped check the windows though, something which had slowly become a habit that Jackson had complained about.

He even opened the car door for him.

In fact, it was exactly like the beginning of the relationship because it didn't last very long.

"Get me a drink." Jackson told him once they were inside the fancy party and their jackets had been taken away. "Martini."

Stiles scurried off, not even considering refusing. He just wanted Jackson to keep being nice. The rest of the evening followed that trend; he followed Jackson around silently, listening to him butter up people that he clearly didn't like or want to be talking to, and every time someone wanted a drink Stiles was sent to the bar.

By the time they sat down to eat he kept reaching for his phone, tempted to call Derek and ask him if he still wanted to see him. That was, until he saw Derek on the other side of the room with a group of older men. One he instantly recognised as Derek's father.

"Stiles?" Jackson tapped his arm, drawing him out of his staring. "Isn't that your friend Derek?"

"Uh, yeah. I didn't know he'd be here tonight." Stiles looked at Derek and felt his heart sink when he saw how unsurprised Jackson was. "You knew."

"I had heard a rumour that Derek Hale would be attending." Jackson admitted, smiling faintly. "Seeing as you're here, it would be rude not to talk to him and equally as rude not to introduce your date."

"Yeah…"

He didn't like it one bit but he still found himself plodding across the room, knot growing in his stomach the second Derek saw him. Dark eyes widened, darting from Stiles to Jackson, and then he rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was a bit of a shock, he'd never seen Derek look like that. He wasn't completely sure what the expression was but it meant trouble.

"Hey Derek." Stiles felt horrible as he stood there and Derek shook his head. "This is uhm, this is…"

"Jackson Whittemore ." Jackson offered in introduction when it became apparent that Stiles wasn't going to be able to.

"Derek Hale." He didn't shake his hand, he just nodded and turned back to Stiles. "Him?"

"I…" Stiles bit his lip hard, lost.

He didn't like it. Derek was genuinely disappointed in him. The realisation didn't make him angry though, he was embarrassed that Jackson still had his arm around him. So he stared at the floor as Jackson failed abysmally at small talk.

They were seated near each other for the meal so Stiles just kept topping his glass up with wine in between nudging his food around the plate dejectedly. The few times he didn't top his own glass up Jackson or Derek would do it for him, both almost racing to be the one to pick up the bottle.

"Maybe you should get some air." Jackson suggested when Stiles almost dropped his glass, fingers tingling and his mind foggy. "Do you need help?"

He never offered him help, even when it was really important like when Erica's wedding was completely ruined. Why was he suddenly being considerate? When Jackson's eyes darted towards Derek briefly he blinked. Was it an act for Derek? To make Derek go away? To stake a claim? Or was he trying to prove something? Was he flaunting what Derek couldn't have? His head was too foggy for him to address the questions.

"Come on." He had no choice as he was hauled out of his chair and dragged towards the balcony, though truthfully he couldn't quite control his legs properly so it was for the best that Jackson was holding him tightly. "Well done Stiles."

"Hmm?"

"You fucked up." Jackson hissed at him, propping him against the wall and scowling. "I'm going to have to take you home now and I was almost in the position to talk to him about something."

"Oh. I'm sorry." He wasn't really. After Derek looking at him like he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life he was glad that Jackson was just as unhappy as him.

"You're always sorry." Jackson sighed, holding him steadily against the wall. "But sorry doesn't help anymore."

Stiles closed his eyes, thoughts on the way the relationship between the two of them had deteriorated in shame and discomfort. At the beginning Jackson had been so nice, so attentive, and then something had changed.

"Stay here."

As soon as he was alone he pulled his phone out and stroked his thumb over the keypad. He didn't have anyone to turn to. Erica would tell him that he should have listened. Marcus would be horrified that he was even in a relationship. He didn't have friends or a father. His mother…

"How are you doing?" Derek's voice made him crack his eyes open.

"Drunk. Disillusioned. You?"

"Disappointed."

"That's a lot of big negative words all beginning with the same letter." Stiles murmured, reaching for his hand when Derek lifted it to steady him. "Why did you invite me tonight?"

"You know why." Derek sighed, pulling his hand back. "But you made your decision didn't you."

"Maybe you invited me because Erica told you I already had plans."

"Or maybe, just once, you should give me the benefit of the doubt and just accept that I don't have an ulterior motive." Derek replied sharply, stepping back. "Go home Stiles. Sleep off the drink. I'll see you on Monday."

Jackson came back and looped an arm around him, guiding him away. Derek was on his other side, concern on his face, and his hand on Stiles's arm. When they reached the car Jackson left him leant against the boot as Jackson started talking to Derek.

* * *

><p>He woke when he heard someone trying to talk quietly. His head hurt, his arm hurt, and his tongue felt like a sponge sucking all of the moisture out of his mouth. It was pretty disgusting actually. He sat up, wincing at the headache he had and how the movement made it worse. His arm hurt from the shoulder down past his elbow, the result of falling over in the bathroom but that was a very hazy memory.<p>

"…know that. Yes Danny I know!"

Why was Jackson in his flat? He rubbed his eyes and shifted, biting his lip at the unwelcome tinge inside him. So at some point during his complete loss of senses they'd had sex. Wonderful. The first time in two weeks and he didn't remember it.

"Don't be like that Danny. This thing with Stiles doesn't mean anything. I love you, not him. You know that Stiles is just my way to get a foot into Hale's office. Hell, he's the only way to get to Hale right now and I need to get to Hale to get that money."

Sleazy, slimy, superficial bastard. Stiles clenched his fists. How could someone treat another person that way? It was uncalled for and just plain cruel.

"I'm coming home now. No I did not fuck him. Danny I'm warning you…"

Jackson trailed off and Stiles just stared at him in silence. There wasn't really anything either of them could say to make anything better or worse. Stiles was finally face to face with the truth and Jackson had just lost his only chance at Derek Hale.

"I'll see you soon." Jackson snapped his phone shut, frowning at Stiles. "How much did you hear?"

"Get out."

"Stiles don't be like that. This thing with Danny doesn't mean anything. I love-"

"Just stop. Please. Just get out and for once just leave it." Stiles begged, rubbing his temples with weariness. "I can't listen to it, not again, not when I've just heard you say all of it to someone else."

"It doesn't mean anything."

"I know." He looked up in time to see Jackson's eyes flash with triumph. "I never meant anything to you."

"That wasn't what I meant." Jackson exclaimed, stepping closer.

Too late. Stiles snorted and lay back down in his bed, reaching for his phone. He'd had enough. Finally, he could see that what everyone else had been saying about Jackson had been true.

"Get out. I've had enough of you. I'm not letting you lie your way back into my bed again." It was the first time he'd ever dared to talk to Jackson that way and a flicker of satisfaction grew inside him at Jackson's shell shocked expression. "I said get out. Or do I go to the police and say you took advantage of me when I was so drunk that I don't remember any of it."

It worked. Jackson was gone in seconds and although a huge part of him was relieved he still buried his head under the quilt and clenched his eyes shut. He refused to cry but he didn't see anything wrong with sleeping for a month until he was definitely over his colossal mess. He'd chosen Jackson instead of Derek and it was the wrong choice. He didn't even know why he'd chosen to go out with Jackson any more.

* * *

><p>"Are you ill?" Marcus's voice wasn't what he expected to hear and he peeped over the edge of the quilt to see his brother stood at the door. "Stiles?"<p>

"No." He pulled the quilt down a little more and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm just sulking."

"Derek called me. He said you had a bad night on Friday and that you had a fight with your boyfriend too." Marcus explained, gesturing to his phone. "He said you've been ignoring your phone for nearly two days."

"I don't remember having a fight." Stiles muttered, reluctantly climbing out of the bed when Marcus yanked him by his arm. "Did I really?"

"Outside apparently, when you were at the car. Derek was there but left you to it." Marcus didn't stop until they were in front of the tiny little telly and the dodgy sofa. "Pizza alright with you?"

"That's not a pizza, that's a flying saucer." Stiles grumbled, sitting awkwardly where he was told to. "Where did you get it?"

"I made it."

"Uhng!" Stiles spat his mouthful out quickly, eyes wide. "Is it safe to eat?"

"Shut up you little monster." Marcus was grinning though, and thrust a glass of water at his little brother.

Marcus dragged a rucksack towards him with his foot until it was close enough to open without standing in order to pull out a handful of DVDs. He handed one to Stiles, who dutifully crawled to his cheap DVD player and put it in.

"What film is it?"

"Battle Royale of course." Marcus smirked at him around a mouthful of pizza. "What else would it be?"

"Maybe something we haven't watched a million times." The words were grumpy but his tone wasn't. He liked the film, and it held good memories of times when Marcus hadn't been a bully of a big brother. Like a lot of siblings they hadn't really started to get along as friends until they were older and lived in separate houses. They didn't see each other often but Marcus was usually there when he needed him.

"Behave and eat your dinner or you don't get any dessert."

"What have we got?"

"Cheesecake." Marcus reached for the remote, pressing play. "A lemonade cheesecake."

"You know, sometimes you're the best brother in the world."

"I know."

"I said sometimes." Stiles poked him in the side, poking his tongue out.

"But you meant to say 'always' didn't you?"

"Does my answer dictate the size of my portion of cheesecake?"

"Yes."

"Then yes. I meant to say that you're always the best brother in the world."

Two Battle Royale films later and he was happily eating a huge slice of cheesecake as Marcus complained about all of the flaws and disappointments in the second film. He agreed with him on every single complaint but after hearing them so many times he just couldn't care less.

"How is everything in your life going?" Stiles spoke up when Marcus ran out of things that annoyed him in the films and his brother hesitated.

"I had a date last night."

"Yeah?"

"Ruby. She's not the usual girl I go for but maybe that's a good thing." Marcus muttered, pulling a face when Stiles started to steal some of his share of the cheesecake.

"How did you meet?"

"A tower of cornflakes fell on her and I saved her."

"That's a lie."

"Yeah. We met at someone's birthday and I threw up in her handbag when I had too much Guinness." The admission was quiet but Stiles heard every word of it and laughed.

"You're such a wonderful specimen of straight man." His teasing made Marcus glare at him but he couldn't help smiling in response. "What does she do?"

"She's a florist."

"Recon she'd want ten grand for a month's work?"

"What are you talking about?" Marcus never had been the sharpest knife in the drawer.

"The wedding I'm planning. They need a florist so desperately that they're willing to pay ten grand up front and then cover the cost of materials after the event." Stiles shrugged, not really believing he was going to get anywhere but Marcus was scrabbling for his phone.

"This is her name, number and the address of the flower shop."

"I'll stop in to see her tomorrow I guess."

"I was thinking…"

"Did it hurt?"

"Will you be serious for five minutes please?" Marcus was using the big brother voice and Stiles pouted as he reached for Marcus's bowl of cake. "Fine, you can have it if you promise to listen."

"I promise."

"I want you to move in with me. Don't look at me like that." Marcus handed the bowl over grudgingly, more concerned with the conversation than the food. "This estate is dangerous. Did you know that four people have been mugged in the past three weeks?"

"I had heard. Thing is, this is my home now. I worked hard to decorate it all the way I like."

"At least agree to think about it. I hate that you live here."

"I'll think about it."

"Well think quickly because I don't want to see your face in the newspaper next time someone gets mugged."

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN<strong> _: I know that I had announced a future fanfiction with DannyxJackson.. Well, I changed it a little bit. It will be now a DannyxEthan, but still with a Stiles with a major case of ADHD. I'm so impatient!

Love.  
>Des bisous.<p>

Sophinette (:


	9. Heartbeat

Budding Bouquets was more like stepping into a chaotic, clashing, rainbow jungle of flowers. The place was small in comparison to the other florists, there were no posters advertising overused unfeeling gifts, and instead of the snobbery he found that the atmosphere was friendly. The plants were also bigger and brighter…or he may have just been a little biased.

At a closer look he could see that the arrangements weren't as professional and there were less of the rare flowers and more of the common.

"Hello?"

"Uhm, hi?" Stiles stared. He couldn't help it.

She was the complete opposite of what he'd pictured when Marcus mentioned her; his brother usually went after Derek's friends and a lot of those girls were plastic bimbos, wearing clothes for the sake of a label instead of their practical value. The woman stood in front of him was wearing dungarees, had dirt smeared across her nose and her name badge was on upside down.

"How can I help you?" She smiled brightly at him, tucking the bright purple flower she was holding into her hair and he smiled.

"I'm Stiles and I need a miracle." He stated blankly, watching as the flower was carefully positioned. "Someone pointed me in your direction."

"How exciting." She grinned, winking at him as she gestured for him to follow her through the jungle of flowers. "What sort of miracle?"

"My friend is getting married in a few weeks. I need her bouquet, the flowers for the groom's men and the bridesmaids. I need something for the tables, for the ceremony alter, and basically anything extra that Erica wants and you'd be willing to make." He rattled off the list, waiting for Marcus's new love interest to either laugh at him or send him packing.

She didn't. Instead she gave him an odd look and sat at on the counter with a notepad in her hand, writing down everything that he'd asked for, including a few extra pieces of information she asked such as the amount of tables, number of wedding guests, and how many would be in the wedding party.

"It's a tall order with such little notice."

"They're willing to pay ten grand. In addition they'll cover all of your expenses." Stiles added, trying to keep his voice steady. He was already being very generous with Olive's cheque book, the last thing he needed was for her to see that he was desperate.

"How big is this wedding?" She asked warily, her eyes darting to the calendar.

"Roughly a thousand guests. The wedding party consists of the bride and groom, the best man and maid of honour, five groomsmen and five bridesmaids, a flower girl and a page boy. Each of them will need a matching corsage or flower."

"Wow. That's big Stiles." She murmured, twisting a stray curl around a finger thoughtfully. "It's an incredible offer though."

She was staring down at her hands with a small frown and he could almost see the cogs turning as her lips moved very slightly. He wasn't very good at lip reading but he was pretty sure she said a few numbers before looking at him warily.

"I need some time to think it over." She held out a piece of paper and a pen. "Write your number down and I'll call."

It wasn't what he wanted to hear but at least it wasn't an abrupt refusal like every other florist had given him. Hopefully she would agree, and then Erica would get a decent bouquet for the wedding and Marcus's new sort-of-girlfriend would get a lot of cash.

"Hopefully I'll hear from you soon then." He offered her a smile, dragging it from somewhere inside him before he left her to deal with some customers.

* * *

><p>Although he was ashamed to admit it, he could hardly deny that he drove as slowly as possible to the Reyes Estate. When he saw Derek's TVR parked next to the space he usually used he found extra reasons to go even more slowly. He made at least two trips back to check that the car was locked, refusing to admit that with the guard and the gate at the start of the drive no one was going to get anywhere near the cars.<p>

"Good afternoon." Erica looked up from some legal paperwork and he smiled wearily at her, thankful when he saw that she's poured him a coffee. "I hear you had a rough Friday night."

"Oh."

"Relax. I only know because a friend was there and saw you talking to Derek." She stood up and shuffled over, giant bunny slippers forcing a laugh from him. "Oh shush. Isaac bought them for me."

"No bunny is that big in real life!" He managed to gasp out between laughter until she swatted his head.

"Behave. I'm trying to be a good friend and offer you support." She took his hands, watching his face closely. "I'm here to talk to whenever you need me okay. You're one of the few people I feel comfortable being myself around."

"Thanks Erica."

"And as your friend I need to warn you about Derek." She said it so seriously.

"What about him?"

"He…" She trailed off, hesitant. "Stiles he's…"

"Erica?"

"He's mad." She stammered, letting go quickly and turning back to her work. "He's here, running with Isaac so maybe we should go somewhere else."

"Is that really what you were going to say?" He followed her to other table with a frown, suspicious. It was almost like she'd wanted to say something else.

"Yes. We should go out for lunch,"

"That's a good idea." Isaac's voice made them both jump it was so unexpected and Stiles bit his lip when he saw Derek stood at the door, slightly behind Isaac.

Mad wasn't the most appropriate word. A more accurate one would be 'furious' or 'incensed.' Stiles fiddled with the strap of his laptop bag as the two men moved into the kitchen and shot a look at Erica when she started mumbling something about her shoes and edging towards the door. It didn't help that Isaac was politely nudging her out of the room.

"You look like shit." Derek stated as he leant against the edge of the table, dark eyes drilling into Stiles' until he couldn't take it anymore and his gaze dropped to the floor. "Are you going to say something?"

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"How about something along the lines of an apology for being a pathetic user?"

"Excuse me?"

"Just admit it. You are completely pathetic." Derek sneered at him, shoving away from the table to catch hold of Stiles before he could turn and walk out. "You're pining for a man who has already replaced you."

Stiles clenched his fists. Was he the only person in the world that hadn't known about Jackson and Danny? It certainly seemed that way as people kept throwing the details in his face whenever he managed to temporarily forget them. He should have listened to Braeden.

"No argument?"

"Is that what you want?" Stiles hated how cold his own voice sounded as he dared to look up at Derek.

"I want you to apologise."

"No."

"Why is it you apologise to everyone else around you when you shouldn't but when you've humiliated me you refuse?"

"You're humiliated?" Stiles heard a laugh, a high pitched sound that came from his own lips. "You've never been humiliated in your life Derek. You just don't like not getting your own way!"

"What would you know?"

"Plenty, I've suffered it enough at your hands in my life." Stiles shoved him, trying to break free of Derek's grip.

"Bollocks. So I dropped you in the lake a couple of times and I got you so drunk that you threw up. I didn't take advantage of how you felt to impress someone." Derek's hand tightened around his wrist as he struggled but Stiles stopped moving at his words.

"I've never taken advantage of you."

"You were quite happy to use my car, my home, my contacts, my friends and everything else I offered when you needed it and then you had to turn up with that bastard Jackson." Derek practically spit the name. "Did he ask you to introduce us? Or did you offer? Was it your idea to ask me for even more than I've already give-"

"I don't understand!" Stiles shouted over him, shaking his head. "I didn't even know you'd be there. If I'd known…"

"What?" Derek was so upset, it wasn't anger like Erica believed, it was genuine hurt.

"I wouldn't have gone at all." Stiles finally yanked his hand free. "Jackson is…"

"He's what?"

"I wasn't using you. Jackson was using __me__, to get to you." He could see the emotions on Derek's face as he admitted the truth but he couldn't read them for what they were. "So stop playing the victim. I don't need this right now."

"Are you okay?"

"Are you bi-polar or something?" Stiles rubbed his temples as Derek tried to move closer to him again.

"No." Derek caught his hands and took over, fingers gently stroking through his hair. "I'm sorry. I guess I just automatically thought the worst."

"We both have a habit of doing that. You're right about one thing though." Stiles admitted, a little off balance at how suddenly they'd gone from fighting to Derek being so nice. "He is a bastard. He traded me in for a new younger office intern."

"One man's loss is another man's gain." Derek stated, cupping Stiles's cheek before stepping back. "Let me take you to dinner."

"Not today." He regretted his answer the second he saw the way that the corner of Derek's eyes tightened. "I'm not saying no, just not tonight."

"Tomorrow night."

"What's the rush?"

"Either refuse or give me a day you agree to."

"You're a pushy spoilt brat." Stiles told him weakly and nodded. "Wednesday night. Is that okay?"

"Wednesday it is."

As if on cue Erica and Isaac returned, the latter gesturing for Derek to head off outside for the rest of their training session. The second the door was shut he looked over at Erica, a laugh bubbling up when she started doing her own special victory dance. Obviously she'd listened in on that rather odd conversation.

BREAK

"One double cream caramel latte with four sugars." Stiles placed the cup on her desk and Braeden gave him a wink.

"Good morning runt." She took a few gulps, and grinned at him, her foot nudging the spare chair towards him.

Funny, he was beginning to get used to that name. He didn't hate it so much after all.

"Is your niece still unemployed?"

"Yes. She's currently determined to be an artist." Braeden let her overly painted eyes dart towards where Danny was desperately trying to work through a huge stack of filing. "So naturally she's shacked up with a French boy and they starve together for the sake of their art. Why?"

"I started thinking when I found a photo from last year's Christmas party. Remember those ornaments she made you, I think she might be able to help me."

"For a profit?"

"Of course. I have free reign with Olive's cheque book at the moment. Will you talk to her?"

"Yes. What do you actually want her to do for you?" Braeden paused, frowning at the sound of paper flying everywhere. On the other side of the room Danny was scrambling after a tower of paper that had taken a dive off the edge of the desk. No one moved to help the kid.

Stiles actually felt a little sorry for Danny. Jackson would just do the same thing to him when he got bored but Danny may not have good friends to fall back on. He may not have a Derek waiting to play the knight in shining armour. That thought made him bite his lip. He was actually starting to get nervous about their date. He'd barely slept the night before.

"I need decorations and table centre pieces and they have to be acceptably artistic or Olive will refuse to have them on the tables."

"I'll get her to call you tonight or tomorrow."

He left just before Jackson arrived, quickly scrambling into his car and speeding out of the car park so that he could avoid having to have any form of interaction with him. Jackson saw him, he actually stopped walking and gestured for him to stop, an order he found very hard to deny. Usually he just did as he was told but he couldn't, not when he knew that Jackson would just turn on him again.

So he drove past, thinking of the dinner date he had arranged with Derek, and much to his relief the idea of Derek, and a real date with someone he liked, made him wonder why he'd been so upset about Jackson in the first place.

* * *

><p>"Hello."<p>

The kitchen was full of people when he found Erica and she shrugged as he gestured around. Their table had been commandeered by the food to feed the ten men covered in mud and wearing those stupid shin guards and football kits.

"Hey." She hugged him and flicked a hand towards the door to where Isaac was talking to an unbelievably tall ginger man. "That's Boyd, he's the best man. They all arrived this morning with some stupid idea about a stag do."

"Worried?"

"Nah. They all know that mother will murder them if they do anything to ruin the wedding." She sipped at her coffee, ducking the dirty pair of socks that flew in their direction. "They're all scared of her."

"Me too."

"She's nothing to be scared of." Erica snorted, swirling the hot liquid around in her mug. "Not really. You men just don't seem to get that."

"Maybe you're immune to it, being a girl, but she's terrifying." Derek slid an arm around Stiles's shoulders when he stepped up.

"You're just a pansy." Erica retorted haughtily, smirking as she glanced at Stiles. "Now it's you that I'm a bit scared of."

"Me?"

"What did the kitty do now?" No one commented on Derek's pet name and Stiles rolled his eyes. He hated that name but it looked like he was going to have to get used to it.

"I think he's a robot." She declared, face completely serious. "He never stops working. I don't think he sleeps or eats if he isn't here and he – OW! Stiles!"

She was hopping on one leg, clutching at her foot and wobbling as she stared at her wedding planner. Stiles did his best to look as innocent as possible, making Derek, Boyd and Isaac laugh.

"Why don't you two come and watch us play?" Boyd suggested when it became apparent that Isaac was hovering with the intention to stay and help Erica.

"Uhm…"

"Oh lets." Erica grinned, grabbed his arm. "The laptop will work in the gardens and it's a lovely day.

Oddly, they managed to get a lot of work done. By the end of the football match he and Erica had finished contacting every guest and they had a new guest list for the seating plan. They were half way through fighting with Boyd and Isaac over where Isaac's incredibly good looking sister was going to sit when Stiles' phone rang.

"Good afternoon, Stiles speaking." He greeted absently as Boyd tried to put forward a justification for wanting to sit with Isaac's sister.

"Hello. It's Ruby from the flower shop." She sounded distracted.

"Hi. Are you okay?"

"Fine. I ran the numbers and it's a lot of work but I need it." Ruby admitted, still distracted. "I need half of the money up front though or the flower shop will be closed down."

"Hold on." Stiles pressed the secrecy button on his phone and looked at Erica. "If you pay the florist five grand up front she'll do all of the flowers for your wedding."

"Do it." Isaac answered before Erica could protest and Stiles nodded, amused as he went back to the fight with Boyd.

"Yeah, half the money up front is fine. Can I bring the bride and groom to you tomorrow morning?"

"Yes. Thank you Stiles."

Ha! Things were finally moving in the right direction.


	10. The Scientist

Four Steps Forward

The trick to dealing with Olive Reyes was that you simply obeyed every word she said. Erica was the only person to live after disagreeing with her and Stiles had no desire to die before he was even thirty. That was his justification for being in a frantic rush to arrive at Ruby's flower shop at seven in the morning and he was going to stick to that excuse.

"Stiles. Late as usual." Olive sniffed unhappily but Stiles had a remedy for the sour mood. "What is that?"

"Coffee." He let her take the paper cup before he held up the paper bag in his other hand. "With croissants, natural yoghurt and strawberries for breakfast."

"That's remarkably healthy." Olive mused, eyeing him and he grinned at her.

"Someone needs to trick Erica into eating properly when you're not here." His reply was like a magic incantation and Olive smiled at him, eyes dancing with amusement as she sipped at the coffee.

"Sometimes I feel you're wasting yourself as a wedding planner."

That was probably the nicest thing she'd ever said to him.

They didn't wait long for Ruby to arrive and let them in. She seemed to be even less of a morning person than Erica was and the poor woman could barely manage to follow Olive's sharp demands as she shuffled through the shop beside Stiles. He gave her an apologetic look and a coffee, which was hastily gulped down before they got down to business.

He wasn't really needed, the old hag knew exactly what she wanted, plans Stiles was doubtful she'd even told Erica of, and Ruby had suggestions of her own that were easily combined with Olive's outline. Stiles stayed quiet and ran through what else needed to be arranged. He was so wrapped up in his planning that he actually jumped in his seat when his phone buzzed loudly on the table.

****Dress up tonight. I'm taking you somewhere nice.****

As usual Derek was being pushy but he just didn't care, it's not like he could really be any worse than Jackson after all.

****I don't really like expensive.****

****I said NICE – not EXPENSIVE.****

****Fine. Where are we going?****

"Stiles dear, I'm not paying for you to have a social life." Olive's voice broke into the text conversation and he rolled his eyes. She'd been snappy since Erica had failed to arrive. "Thank you. It's nice to have your attention back. What do you think?"

Ruby was holding a fancy bouquet in her hands, one that they'd apparently thrown together, and it was perfect.

"Yeah that's good. I like the way you have the autumn theme to compliment the season." He commented absently as his phone buzzed again, this time an alert that he had an email. "I just need to check this."

He read the message quickly, his grin growing as he scanned the words. Things really were starting to pick up. First with the tables, then the flowers and third, he had Braeden's niece on board.

"Olive?"

"Yes Stiles?" She was tucking into the strawberries in the same manner that Erica ate chocolate.

"We have someone to do table decorations." He held his phone out to show her the glass sculptures that the girl had made for the Christmas party the previous year. "The email was from her. She's a friend's niece and she's eager for work."

"She made these?"

"All of them from scratch." He nodded, pleased when her eyebrows rose with interest, it was a good sign with Olive. "She's going to be in Scotland until Thursday night and she'll be at your estate on Friday morning to begin plans. Her boyfriend has agreed to help with the work load too. He's a professional artist; they're currently at his latest exhibition in Glasgow."

"Wonderful." She beamed at him, ignoring Ruby as she rushed off to meet the delivery man. "Are you hungry? We should have lunch before we head back to the house."

"Uhm, sure."

****Not telling you where it is. I'm driving.****

****That's silly. Just tell me where and when to meet you.****

****Your house. I'll pick you up.****

****You're really annoying.****

****And you love it.**** Derek's reply made him snort and he shoved his phone back into his pocket in order to follow Olive. He'd let Derek have the last word, he wouldn't be happy unless he did after all.

* * *

><p>When he saw the overly flashy sports car parked outside the Reyes house Stiles smiled. Derek was there again. The thought warmed him a little; he was beginning to get used to seeing him every single day.<p>

"Hey!" Erica dashed over to him and hugged him when he stepped into the kitchen. "I need your help."

"Uhm. What with?"

"The musicians." She dragged him over to the table, pushing him into the chair beside Derek, who winked at him in greeting.

"I thought Derek's father was going to sort that out for you." He really didn't want to add musicians to the list of things to arrange.

"Oh he has. I thought he was going to send a CD for the string quartet but I was wrong." Erica grumped, flinging a glare at Derek as if it was his fault. "He sent me five CDs this morning. One is a string quartet. One is a woodwind quartet. We have a Jazz band. A solo singer and a swing band. I have no idea which one to choose. They're all very good."

"Oh." Stiles hesitated, a little thrown when he felt a hand rest on his thigh. That was unexpectedly distracting and he wasn't sure whether he should move the hand or not. "Uhm, well how lively do you want the party to be?"

"Lively enough." Erica frowned, fiddling with the handle of her coffee mug. "Not classical quartet slow but that still leaves me with the soloist, the jazz band and the big band."

"A lot of big band songs are difficult to dance to." Isaac pointed out idly, placing a fresh orange juice in front of his fiancé. "Plus, I'm not really a fan. So we're torn between the soloist and the jazz band."

Stiles bit his lip, still mostly focused on the hand on his thigh. Derek wasn't giving away any sign that he was even touching him and he was off balance. Jackson hadn't even wanted to stand next to him most of the time.

"Stiles?"

"Jazz."

"Why?"

"Because everyone has a solo singer at their wedding. If you have a proper Jazz band it makes it stand out a little more, plus, it's easier to get groups dancing to it."

He explained, finally getting the courage up to place his hand over Derek's and curl his fingers around it. If Derek was surprised at all he didn't show it and Stiles gave him a little smile as Isaac and Erica started whispering about the music. It was nice to have someone willing to hold hands with him.

"Jazz it is." Erica nodded firmly and clapped her hands. "I feel like things are coming together Stiles! How did it go with the florist?"

"Fine. Olive and Ruby have it all planned and Ruby was ordering supplies with the delivery man when we were leaving." He smiled at her, ready for the next piece of good news. "We also have table decorations."

"Really?"

"Yes. They're going to be hand made. The girl is going to be here on Friday morning to discuss what you want her to do." He was glad at how happy that made her and as she gushed at Isaac, jabbering about her ideas Stiles looked at Derek.

"Yes?" Derek asked with an arched eyebrow, as if expecting a hail of the usual abuse.

"Thank you." Stiles murmured, squeezing his hand gently.

It confused Derek but the wedding planner let go of his hand and stood, grabbing his folder. As he and Erica started pulling out plans he knew Derek was watching him with confusion but he didn't care. Derek didn't need to be told that the tiny bit of physical contact had made him get that warm fuzzy feeling inside his chest.

Not yet anyway.

"So I was thinking that we could have a circle of tables here." Erica drew a rough outline of the grounds and where she wanted to eat. "It's closer to the lake house so the guests will be further from the manor. The stage can be here, and then the lake is to the left of the whole thing so that people can get to the boats."

"What about electricity?"

"What for?"

"The stage and it's going to get dark eventually. We need lights or people will be falling over." Stiles pointed out thoughtfully, unsure of how to counter that problem.

"Candles?"

"Not enough." He chewed on his lip. "Give me a couple of days. I'll try to work something out. We're going to need some sort of generator."

"Okay Stiles. Sorry about this morning."

"It's fine. Olive enjoyed being bossy on her own." He waved off her concern and looked over to where Derek and Isaac were outside talking about something as Isaac hosed down a table covered in moss. "I have to go soon. I have a date."

"With Derek?"

"Yes with Derek." He rolled his eyes as she did a little dance and he dragged fingers through his hair. "I'm nervous."

"Why?"

"This isn't really something I've done before."

"What about with Jackson the Moron?"

"Jackson the Moron?" That was certainly one he hadn't heard before.

"Yeah. It's my new nickname for him. What do you think?"

"Pretty accurate and it's a nice rhyme."

"I thought so too." She took his hand with a bright smile. "So what are you wearing tonight?"

"I don't know. He said we were going somewhere nice."

"Trousers and a shirt? That way you can look acceptable and delicious at the same time?" She suggested, her expression becoming a little disturbing.

"Uhm, yeah I guess. Erica, you're really creepy."

"I know. I have an excuse though. I'm getting married and all of my friends either have children or are single so I'm going to need some normal couples to associate with." She gestured to where her fiancé and Derek were laughing at the window. "And seeing as my fiancé and your boyfriend get along."

"Not my boyfriend yet." He said quickly, a little alarmed at the thought of 'couples time' with Erica and Isaac. He honestly didn't even know what couples did when they gathered. A gathering with Jackson had involved work, or the two of them alone, drunk, in a bed.

"He will be. Now scram. I want to hear all about your date tomorrow."

He left, waving his goodbye to the two men outside, and turned the radio up high as he drove back. Whenever he and Jackson had met up he'd been nervous, but that was usually because he wasn't sure if he was actually going to turn up. It was a different kind of nervous as the date with Derek loomed ahead of him; it was more an excited nervousness.

Naturally he had his misgivings, they clashed a lot and they could bicker like an old married couple but he liked Derek's company and he wanted to have a functional relationship for once.

****I'll be there at 8pm.****

****Where are we going?****

****Not telling.****

****I'll make it worth your while if you tell me.****

****Tempting but no. 8pm sharp. Be ready xx****

Stiles shook his head in disappointment, he wanted to know so he knew how to dress and what to expect, it was bad enough going into unknown territory with Derek as it was. Still, it did make things a little more exciting.

He was humming along to ABBA as he climbed out of the car, mentally making a note to clear out the Mini before Derek saw how much mess he'd already made in it, when he felt someone stop beside him. The shadow that fell across the bonnet of the car wasn't familiar and he swallowed. All five of the men were at least a foot taller than him, he couldn't see any faces, and he was instantly on edge when he saw the cricket bat one held.

Typical.

He should have listened to Marcus. He also should have known the car would draw too much attention in his neighbourhood.


	11. Take Me Home

The Longest Day

He'd never experienced being hit by a bus or a train but at that exact moment he was pretty sure that was how he felt. His shoulder was on fire and his head throbbed. It was more than that though, he felt sick, his top lip felt bigger than it should on one side, his nose felt huge and the rest of him ached.

"Stiles?"

He groaned when he heard Derek's voice. Had he had too much to drink and done something stupid? It was bad if it was a hangover.

"Stiles?"

"Don't shout." His own mutter was hoarse and he winced at how much it hurt to just talk. What on Earth had he been drinking?

"Sorry." Derek's voice dropped to a whisper and he Stiles felt a hand gently cup his cheek. "Can you open your eyes?"

"No." His head hurt so much he was pretty sure his head would explode if he opened them.

"I'm going to get the doctor."

The doctor? He hardly needed a doctor for a hangover. With a silent curse he forced his eyes open and froze.

He was not at home, and definitely not at Derek's house. For one thing, there was a sign on the wall informing him of St Mary's Hospital's visiting hours. Second, there was a doctor following Derek into the room, and third, he was on a drip.

What the hell?

"He's really confused." Derek commented to the doctor, who shrugged.

"He has a head injury and he's woken somewhere unfamiliar, it's a common issue." The doctor moved to check on him, manhandling him in order to shine that stupid light in his eyes and take his temperature. "How much do you remember Stiles?"

"Uhm…"

The men by his car.

"They were bigger than me?" He replied weakly, the memory of being curled up on the floor in a foetal position as he was kicked flashing in his mind. "I got mugged didn't I?"

"It appears so. The police have been sniffing around." The doctor was so uninterested as he stepped away from the bed. "You had scans last night. Despite the concussion so I'm going to discharge you from the hospital but I want you to come back next week to make sure there isn't any clotting. It's going to make you a bit light headed and dazed until at least tomorrow."

"Right."

As the bored doctor left the room Stiles looked at Derek, who was dressed to impress. Very nice shirt, perfect trousers and although it was a little messed up his hair looked good too.

"Have you called my brother?"

"Yes." Derek sat on the edge of the bed. "He was here for a few hours after he finished work but I sent him home to sleep."

"Right."

"The police are going to want to talk to you this week. I asked them to give you a few days to recover some of your memory."

"Right."

His head was throbbing so much it was difficult to really concentrate on anything. Derek did look very good though.

"I guess I ruined our date." He muttered weakly, disappointed. After all of that build up too, he'd been looking forward to it.

"It was hardly your fault." Derek countered, taking his hand. "It's okay. We can do it another day."

That was good. Stiles smiled weakly, feeling sick as he tried to sit up but Derek nudged him back so that he lying down again. They stayed silent, Derek watching the door and Stiles trying to work out what the damage was.

"What did the doctors say?"

"Concussion, fractured skull, you have stitches in the back of your head, split lip, broken nose and you had a dislocated shoulder. They think you've got bruised ribs too." Derek listed his injuries calmly, making Stiles pull a face. "It's lunch time, you were unconscious for a few hours and you've been concussed for a few hours. You've not really made much sense."

"Oh."

"Here you go Derek. If you sign these papers we can let him leave with you but you have to bring him back the second something goes wrong. I'm not even supposed to be doing this." The doctor didn't even look at Stiles as the nurse with him started to disconnect the drip. "These are morphine capsules; very strong painkillers. He can up to 20mg twice a day but don't let him take any more than that."

Stiles wanted to argue, wanted to be the one that was in charge of the situation but he could barely keep his mind focused on anything for more than a few seconds.

At least Derek was there and he did look very good.

"Right, Stiles?"

"Hmm?"

"He'll be unresponsive with the morphine in his system. It'll take a couple of days for him to get used to it." The doctor explained at Derek's expression. "The capsules are weaker than the injection we gave him too. It will wear off. The appointment for the scan next week is written on the appointment card in the bag."

"Thanks Deaton." Derek grinned and Stiles tilted his head, oblivious to the nurse pulling the cannula from his hand. "I'll see you around."

Did Derek have friends __everywhere__?

Stiles let Derek help him to his feet, giggling to himself when he saw that his feet seemed so far away and Derek gave him a funny look.

"You look very good." He stated seriously, smiling at him goofily and Derek laughed.

"You're so high." He snorted, wrapping an arm around his middle. "I'm taking you home and I'm going to look after you until you're back to normal."

"But I'm not capable of looking after myself, even when I'm back to normal." Stiles argued, hand clutching at Derek's as the wave of nausea that hit him as he tried to walk. "You should stay with me forever."

"I'll remind you of that when you're back to normal."

Standing may not have been a good idea. He felt like he was very high up and the room was swaying like he was on a boat.

"Okay. Derek?"

"What?"

"I'm going to throw up."

* * *

><p>"Oh my god." Stiles shifted, thumping the pillow under his head, confusion hitting him when it hurt his hand.<p>

"Ouch." Derek grumbled and Stiles opened his eyes warily, peering at him. "You seem to be feeling a bit better."

"Uhm?"

"You've been asleep for three hours. I've been an obedient pillow." Derek grinned down at him as he uncurled. "You're more deserving of the name kitty than you realise you know."

"Shut up."

"Ah, you're back to normal." Derek teased him, carefully helping him sit up properly.

"Yeah. Things are blurry though and I hurt." Stiles rubbed his eyes and shakily stood, following Derek to the kitchen. "I need coffee."

"Go sit back down. I'll do it." Derek pointed to the sofa and he returned to his previous seat with little protest. "Do you still feel sick?"

Stiles swallowed. Oh no, that hadn't been his imagination. He really had thrown up on Derek! That was probably the most embarrassing thing he'd ever done.

"Here." Derek sat back down, handing him a steaming mug of coffee and Stiles took it gratefully, avoiding meeting Derek's gaze. "You still look quite pale."

"Shut up."

"No."

"Seriously Derek. Let me drink the coffee and then you can be as irritating as you want to." Stiles snapped and Derek's grin grew. "And stop grinning!"

"You really are a grouch when you wake up."

"Get lost."

"Are you like this even if you get morning sex?"

"Derek I'm warning you." Stiles growled but the other man was just enjoying it too much to stop.

"Don't worry I'll find out soon enough." Derek leant forward to kiss his head. "I bet a little bit of rough in the morning and you lose all of this hostility."

"I hate you." Stiles knew he was bright red and he gave him a pathetic shove. The pain in his shoulder and his ribs had him instantly regretting it. "Why are you still here?"

"I'm your babysitter." Deep down, he was thankful that Derek cared enough to stay and watch over him, but he still didn't like that he owed him even more. "And before you start worrying, I called Isaac and told him to explain to Erica."

"Oh god the wedding. I have to call cater-"

"You're not doing anything of the sort." When Derek's voice lost the playful edge Stiles actually felt intimidated, it reminded him of when Olive was angry. "You will rest. Erica and Olive can handle the seating charts today and they're going to meet with your table decorator tomorrow."

"I need to be there!"

"You need to get better because you're useless right now. You can't even walk straight." Derek hissed and Stiles snapped his mouth in shock at the venom in the words. "Oh no. Stiles don't cry!"

He wasn't really sure why he was crying, he wanted to blame the pain and the drugs he could still feel making him feel funny but really, it was probably because Derek had never talked to him like that. In fact, Derek sounded a lot like Jackson did.

"I want to go to bed." Stiles mumbled as he wiped his eyes quickly and Derek sighed.

"I'll carry you."

* * *

><p>The next time he woke he was alone and he no longer felt dizzy. It meant he could shuffle to the kitchen, still wrapped in his quilt, to investigate the interesting smells wafting through his flat.<p>

"Evening sleepy head." Derek greeted, carefully flipping the bacon in the frying pan. "Hungry?"

"Yeah." Stiles shuffled closer, sniffing. "Sorry about before."

"Don't worry about it Stiles." Derek glanced at him, that grin creeping back on his face. "I quite enjoy fighting with you."

"You would."

"I'm not a very good cook. All I can do is bacon sandwiches and scrambled eggs. Everything else tends to come out tasting like bacon or looking like scrambled eggs." Derek gestured to the almost charred bacon. "And even then the bacon comes charred."

"Everyone has their flaws Derek. I take it this one is one you haven't accepted."

"You're a little snot sometimes." Derek complained, placing the fork down when Stiles dropped the quilt and moved closer, standing in his personal space as he started to help.

"You like it. I'd be boring if I didn't mock you." Stiles looked up at him with a grin and tapped his cheek mockingly.

"Like I just said; you're a little snot."

Stiles stood on his toes and wrapped him non-achy arm around Derek's neck, tugging him into a slow kiss. He liked how Derek was there for him all night at the hospital, that he was sticking around to look after him when he needed him, and he liked that Derek encouraged him to be himself and stand up for himself. He also liked the way Derek kissed as the man slid an arm around his middle and cradled him in his arms. It was perfect. Maybe not the circumstances, but the kiss was absolutely perfect.

"Will you stay?"

"Yeah but I'm sleeping on the sofa." Derek replied softly, the look on his face full of awe as he stared down at Stiles.

"You don't have to."

"Yes I do." Derek placed a hand on Stiles's shoulder and he hissed in pain. "I'm a restless sleeper and I'll just hurt you."

"I'm not going to stop arguing with you just because you're being nice."

"I'm counting on that." Derek laughed and nudged him aside. "Let me finish cooking."

The bacon was black by the time it was in their sandwiched and the scrambled egg was almost solid. Stiles tried to suppress his laughs as they both struggled to eat. They were watching some quiz show on the telly that he'd never seen before and Derek's expression at the show was worth eating the dodgy food.

"I think we need a back up plan." Derek finally spoke and reached for his phone. "What do you fancy?"

"You're ordering take away?"

"Sort of." Derek started dialling a number. "Do you like venison?"

"No idea. It's a little out of my price range."

"Right." Derek pressed a button and lifted the phone to his ear. "Hey. Any chance of you sending some dinner here? Venison steak? On a bed of spinach cooked in beef stock with sautéed potatoes."

Stiles nibbled on flakes of black bacon as he watched Derek talk. It took about ten minutes before he hung up.

"He's sending it straight over." Derek smirked at Stiles, clearly smug.

"Only you would be smug that you can't cook and have to rely on other people."

"Oh shut your mouth kitty or I won't share when it gets here."

"Did I hit a nerve there?"

"I'm warning you." Derek glared at him and Stiles laughed, flicking some of the solidified egg at him. "Stop that."

"Thanks."

"What?"

"For all of this. Jackson would have left me on the pavement."

"Jackson is a prick." Derek sneered, shaking his head at Stiles. "I don't get why you even bothered with him. There was no way I was going to leave you on the pavement with the blood you'd lost."

"Wait. You found me?"

"Yeah. Whoever attacked you dumped you in a bush and ran off. I found you when I came to pick you up." It was typical that in his neighbourhood no one bothered to help him. He might like owning his own flat there but it wasn't safe and Marcus had been right about him getting into trouble. "It isn't a very safe place."

"Marcus keeps saying that too. I think I'm going to save up for a new home." Stiles admitted, rather reluctant to admit he was shaken by the experience. "I should be able to in a few months."

"With the amount Olive is paying you should be able to after the wedding."

"It'll only be a couple of hundred." Stiles muttered, pulling a face.

"Are you joking?" Derek sounded confused. "She's paying thousands."

"Oh." Stiles stared down at his plate. "No wonder Jackson has such a nice house."

"He's a prick. That money should be yours with the work you're doing." Derek was angry. It was the first time Stiles had seen him genuinely angry. To be fair he was pretty pissed off himself.

"I'll deal with it Derek."

"I could-"

"No. I'll deal with it." Stiles stated grimly, shaking his head. He'd just about had enough of Jackson. "I know exactly how to get back at him."

"Stiles."

"What?"

"Let me deal with him." There something in the way that Derek said it that made Stiles nod.


	12. Sweet Louise

Derek – 9, Stiles – 6

"Sit down."

"No! I want to do something."

"I'll tie you to the chair."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Do you really want to test me?"

"Argh! You are so annoying!" Stiles cried, glowering at his jailor, finally giving in and sitting down on the sofa. "I hate you."

Derek – 4, Stiles – 3.

"Of course you do." Derek grinned, throwing the quilt over him and sitting beside him, trapping him on the chair. "You need to sit still to rest or you won't heal."

"I really hate you."

"No matter how many times you say that neither of us will ever believe it." Derek taunted, reaching for the remote. "Now, what are we going to watch?"

"There's a film on channel 4." Stiles announced, snatching the remote and switching it on. "We're watching that."

Derek stared at the screen. It took a few moments of him staring at the penguins singing and dancing on the screen before he reacted.

"What the fuck are we watching?"

"Happy Feet!"

"Happy what?" Derek looked ready to explode and Stiles smiled innocently at him.

"Happy Feet. I'm the one who has to rest, so I get to choose the film."

"Pest."

Derek – 4, Stiles – 4.

Needless to say, ten minutes into the film and Derek was ready to throw in the towel. Not that he let Stiles do any work. No. Instead he forced him let him help him get dressed and took him out.

"This is hardly resting." Stiles was getting the hang of being in the car when Derek drove; the key was to keep your eyes shut and try to hold on as tight as possible. It also helped to try not to listen to the roar of the engine.

"Shush. You're not working, which is the important bit."

"Why do you always have to have an answer for everything?"

"Just intelligent like that I guess."

"You're so full of yourself."

"Would __you__ rather be full of me?" Derek laughed as Stiles started to splutter, eyes wide. He wasn't used to it; Jackson had been so reluctant to ever really be attentive of playful. He'd not even spoken during or after sex.

"I can't believe you just said that."

"Really?"

"Shut up."

"It's too much fun though. You're cute when you splutter like that you know."

"Derek, you are a complete dick head."

"You wouldn't want me any other way." Derek grinned at him until Stiles found it impossible not to mirror it. "See."

Derek – 5, Stiles – 4.

"Where are we going?" It was time for a new tactic; the slanging matches weren't helping him figure out where Derek was taking him.

"It's a surprise." Derek stated primly and Stiles let out a strangled sound, fed up. He hit Derek's arm angrily. It was probably harder than he'd meant it because Derek actually winced at the punch.

"Alright!"

Derek – 5, Stiles – 5.

"We're going to the zoo."

"The zoo?" That was the last thing he expected to hear coming from Derek. How likely was it that the man had ever stood anywhere near an animal and the area it went to the toilet in?

"Yeah. I figured if you liked penguins so much…"

"You might be a dickhead but sometimes you're perfect." Stiles's face lit up in excitement and he relaxed into his chair, grin fixed on his face. He might not be able to imagine Derek liking a zoo but personally he loved animals and it had been a hell of a long time since he went to one.

He should have realised that with Derek there was no such thing as a simple trip to the zoo. He was expecting it to be busy and to have to fight to get close enough to the enclosures to see the animals but Derek had gone a step further than he anticipated.

"Hello Derek." It was official; Derek had a friend __everywhere__! The man that greeted them was dressed in muddy clothes and greeted Derek with a friendly expression. "And this is?"

"Stiles."

"Welcome Stiles." The man had an accent and a few nasty scars. "Where to first?"

"Uhm…" If there was one thing Stiles hated, it was being confused or caught off guard.

"Penguins?" Derek looked at him, saw his obvious annoyance and sighed. "Stiles this is Jim, he's the deputy groundskeeper here. I called him before we left and he's going to let you go into some of the enclosures. They do a thing for kids where you get to be a zoo keeper for the day. Jim agreed to let me call in a favour and he's going to let you have some fun."

"Are you for real?"

"Yes." Derek's lips quirked into a sexy smirk as Stiles gawped at him and Jim laughed.

"Show off."

Derek – 6, Stiles – 5.

The last time he'd been to the zoo it was a city zoo for a school trip when he was eight, he'd spent most of the day running around shouting with the rest of his classmates and only really paid a little bit of attention when they found the penguins. In short it was a very different experience to the one Derek had made possible.

"Just throw it." Jim instructed as they stood in the centre of the crowd of penguins, the funny little birds had swarmed around them the second they'd stepped into the rocky area next to their swimming pool.

"Like this?" He lobbed it into the middle of the crowd, making the birds scrabble.

He caught Derek watching him as he laughed, and blushed when the man gave him a strangely gentle smile. He was starting to feel a little like he was on a date, and it was possibly the best date he'd ever had.

"Do you want the rest of the bucket?" Jim offered and Stiles shook his head.

"No, I wouldn't be able to hold it."

"He dislocated his shoulder a couple of days ago." Derek supplied in explanation to Jim's questioning look as Stiles knelt down and gently fed the fish to the closest penguin.

He left them to talk, stealing fish out of the bucket Jim was still holding and grinned when he had all of the birds focused on him. They were so cool! He was tempted to grab one and stuff it in his jumper so that he could take it home. A penguin would be the perfect pet.

"That's it." Jim announced when at last the bucket was empty and Stiles stood reluctantly, not wanting to leave.

The cute birds were disbanding, abandoning him as soon as the food ran out. Stupid fickle things. A few waddled over to the small tree that was on the other side of the rock pools and gathered around it, staring up at the branches. Stiles blinked and looked at Jim, who laughed.

"It's what they do. They stand there all day sometimes, it's like they worship the tree or something." The groundskeeper gestured to their exit. "We have a lot to get through so we need to get moving."

"Ah, okay." He trailed after the man, glancing at Derek with a small smile as the man fell into step beside him.

"Like that?"

"You know I did."

"Yeah, but I want to hear you swallow that pride of yours and admit that I did something right."

"Basically you want an ego-stroking."

"Ego-stroking is just as good as any other stroking."

"Pervert."

"Uh huh." Derek grinned when the next enclosures came into sight and Stiles's eyes widened.

"They're huge."

"Giraffes tend to be."

"I've never seen them before." Stiles snapped, walking right up to the fence and staring up.

"They probably seem bigger to you because you're so small and thin."

"Fuck off."

Derek – 7, Stiles – 5.

"These guys can be a little shy but they're late for their feeding so hopefully they won't be too slow." Jim climbed up the stupidly tall fence and started waving a branch of leaves as he began his lecture. "Don't try to touch their heads or neck; it'll scare them. They might live in the zoo but they're not tame by any means."

"He looks very silly up there." Stiles commented, leaning against Derek, who silently wrapped an arm around him.

"This is how they get their attention." As he explained his little finger brushed against the flesh on show between Stiles's jeans and his t-shirt. "Are you okay?"

"In pain. I think I need to take some more tablets." Oddly the gentle tracing of Derek's fingers against his hip was comforting.

"I have some in my pocket." Derek admitted, amused when Stiles looked up in surprise. "Want some now?"

"Uhm, yes please." Stiles wasn't used to someone so attentive, sure they bickered but the second Stiles needed something Derek had it on hand.

Jim took a while getting the giraffes to follow him but when they finally got there Stiles was treated to the experience of feeding the bizarre looking creatures. Jim showed him how to hold the small offering of leaves and branches so that the strange animals could grip them with their tongues before stepping back to talk quietly to Derek.

They were incredible.

Giraffes could very well be his new favourite animal, especially when his memory of them was going to of Derek stepping up close behind him and gently kissing his neck before wrapping his hand around the small branch of leaves Stiles held.

Derek – 8, Stiles – 5.

"I want one."

"What?" Derek looked down at him as Stiles picked another small sprig up.

"I want a giraffe."

"I don't think it will fit in the car."

After that they paid a vitis to the elephants, the big cats, the wolves and last was a visit to the sloth. Jim picked the slowly moving creature up and placed him into Stiles's arms, before stepping back and letting Stiles stare at the creature curling around him.

"Don't even think about it." He hissed when he saw Derek holding his phone up to take a photo of him with the overgrown fur ball.

"Sorry." He wasn't sorry at all" Stupid git!

The flash panicked the sloth and Jim quickly took him back, soothing him with practiced familiarity, half watching as Stiles stalked towards Derek. The kid was still a little intimidating even with the limp and the bruises but Derek was just grinning at him.

"Delete it."

"No."

"Delete it."

"Make me."

"Derek I'm warning you!" He may have hurt his shoulder but that didn't mean he couldn't still kick pretty damned hard.

"Fuck! Stiles alright! I'll delete it just stop kicking me." Derek yelped, trying to back away only to find there was a glass wall behind him.

Stiles waited to hear the sounds from Derek's phone and pulled a face at the man when he held the phone up.

"See. Gone."

"Good."

"You can be such a bitch sometimes." Derek's grumble was stopped sort when he received a text and he didn't get the chance to protect himself when Stiles swiftly stole his phone.

"I hate you."

Derek – 9, Stiles – 5.

The bastard had sent the picture to Marcus.

* * *

><p>"Are you still ignoring me?" Derek frowned at his lack of response but Stiles didn't care. After Marcus had replied Erica and Isaac had replied, both amused, and the worst part of was that Isaac's reply included a comment about how the whole wedding party had seen it.<p>

They stayed in the stony silence until Stiles sat up a little straighter, a familiar sea side town appearing on the horizon. They'd had fish and chips there before.

"What are we here for?"

"Oh so now you're talking to me?"

"Derek."

"I don't get you. I bent over backwards today to give you something to do that would take your mind off work and then you just flip out on me!" Derek's voice was rising and Stiles shrunk away from him. He hated it when people shouted at him. "You can't just pick and choose times to act like this Stiles, you're an adult."

"You humiliated me!" Stiles tried to defend him but the words were weak, they both knew he'd over reacted over the photo. "Just like you've always done."

"There you go again."

"Derek, I -"

"This isn't going to work."

"What?" Panic his him and he grabbed Derek's sleeve. "What the hell are you saying?"

"I can't deal with you always waiting to be angry at me. So what if I picked on you when we were kids? Have you ever thought about why I used to do that shit?" Derek was shouting again but the second he saw Stiles's fingers trying to curl around the door handle he stopped dead and caught his hand. "Stiles calm down."

"Please stop shouting at me." It scared him when people shouted at him. Jackson had often taken advantage of that fact.

"Okay." Derek lifted a hand to cup a bruised cheek with a sigh. "I didn't mean that. I'm willing to put up with the sarcasm, the hate declarations and the insults because I've been hanging around and waiting far too long to get my hands on you to give up so easily but you have to cut me some slack Stiles."

"But I…I think. I don't mean to…"

"I know." Derek kissed him, the touch of his lips gentle out of worry he might hurt his split lip. "If you don't want this, tell me, because as unwelcoming as you get I'm not giving up unless you tell me to."

"But I don't want you to give up on me." Stiles whispered, off balance as he registered that he couldn't lie to Derek.

"Good. Now, the reason that we are here is because we're going to get some fish and chips from my favourite chippy and then we're going to spend the night on my father's yacht." Derek announced with a smug look. "Any complaints?"

"Please don't push me in the sea?"

"I'm so teaching you to swim when your arm works again."

"Works for me."

They bought enough food to feed an army and went to the infamous yacht. Stiles could remember hearing stories about the parties that Derek had held on it when they were still in school. He'd never seen it though, despite wanting to for years, and boy it was bigger than he anticipated.

"Careful." Derek guided him along the jetty and onto the boat, the paper bag packed full of food tucked under one arm while the other hand held Stiles's tightly.

"It's big."

"Yeah. Seventy-five feet. Has twelve beds." Derek responded absently, somehow balancing everything, unlocking the door and keeping a hold on his hand. "Go on in, the light is on your left."

Derek fussed around so Stiles located plates and ketchup as well as a bottle of wine. By the time Derek reappeared he had the low coffee table set up with their food and he was fiddling with the radio.

"You didn't have to do that."

"I'm not some bimbo you have to run around after Derek, I can set a table." He retorted, a little sharper than he intended it to be but Derek didn't tell him off, instead he caught hold of him and kissed him again.

"Shut up, stop being a brat and sit down." Derek ordered before he pulled away and sat on one of the two seater chairs.

Stiles grabbed his plate and sat next to him, as close as humanly possible without being on his lap and Derek arched an eyebrow at him.

"Comfy?"

"Yeah. As a matter of fact I am." Stiles grinned up at him. "Thanks for today. I needed a break even if I wouldn't admit to it."

"Eat your chips before I do."

"Don't you dare." He growled when Derek grabbed a handful and shoved them into his mouth.

He stuck one finger underneath Derek's plate and send it flying all over the floor.

Derek – 9, Stiles – 6.


	13. Addicted To You

Some Anger, Some Truth, Some Adjustments.

He was used to sleeping next to Jackson, the man who kicked him if he dared to touch him when he slept. Maybe it was Jackson's subconscious telling him that he didn't want Stiles right from the beginning? Derek on the other hand was wrapped around him like he was a human teddy bear.

"Let me up." He whispered as Derek made a disgruntled sound at his attempt to untangle himself.

"No."

"I need the toilet." He grumbled and Derek sleepily unwound his arms, still mostly asleep, and the second Stiles was on his feet he let out a soft snore.

In a way it was nice. Nice to have someone that wanted that physical closeness, nice to be able to sleep in someone's arms, nice to be appreciated. His next stop after the bathroom was the kitchen for coffee, at which point his phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?"

"Jackson?" He blinked at the phone and yawned. "What do you want?"

There was a pause and Stiles had to smile. He'd never talked to Jackson like that before but his constant exposure to Derek was building his confidence. He no longer cared about what his bastard boss thought.

"Well?"

"I'm at your flat."

"Uhm, why?"

"We have to talk."

"Talk now." He suggested, a little miffed that his very peaceful morning was suddenly a lot less peaceful.

"I'm not having this conversation over the phone."

"Then I guess we won't have it." He retorted, smile creeping onto his face when the sleep ruffled Derek shuffled into the kitchen towards the coffee as if transfixed. "There's a cup for you on the coffee table already."

"Oh." Derek yawned and shuffled back out, letting Stiles go back to his conversation with Jackson.

He was a little distracted by the sight of Derek wandering around with just his jeans on and no shirt. He'd known he was physically fit with all of the sports he and Isaac did but he'd not expected a chest like that to be hidden underneath the designer labels. He even had a six pack! It was probably the first time he'd been in a room with someone that made him want to pounce without any hesitation. Hell, it took all of his self control not to at least reach out and touch.

He'd found other people attractive, but he'd not realised that there were different levels to attraction.

"Stiles!"

"Oh, sorry. What do you want anyway?"

"Who are you with?"

"Derek."

And Jackson hung up.

He sat beside Derek with a sigh. What exactly was the problem between Derek and Jackson?

"Why do you hate Jackson?"

"He's scum."

"Why?"

"He's got a reputation Stiles, a bad one." Derek sighed, staring into his coffee with a frown. "I think every person to ever join him in a business venture has ended up completely screwed over. He tried to rip mum off when she used his company."

Stiles wanted to say it seemed unlikely but he couldn't. When it came to money and business Jackson was ruthless. He'd seen him milk clients and financial backers for every penny he could.

"It's not just that though."

"What else is there?"

"He doesn't really value anyone except himself." Derek took a mouthful of coffee. "Did you ever meet Henry?"

"Uhm, no." Who the hell was Henry?

"He was the intern before you. Mother hired him to organise a party and everything went wrong." Derek hesitated, an uncharacteristic thoughtful expression on his face. "Then, when she got angry and fired him, Jackson got rid of him."

"Got rid of him?"

"Yeah. Something about losing her as a client meant he lost his job." Derek was watching him closely and Stiles stared down at the floor.

It sounded oddly familiar. He remembered that first week at the office, Jackson had offered him the job about a month after they first went out together and when he'd asked why the previous intern had left Jackson had told him some story about how he was stealing from the company. He'd never met Henry.

"Stiles?"

"He told me that if I didn't get this wedding planned, and Olive dropped her account with the company then I was going to lose my job. He's also got this kid, Danny, doing my job in the office." It wasn't as hard to hate Jackson as he'd once thought. The truth, or the glimpse at some of the truth, was enough to make his head throb.

"Danny Mahealani."

"You know him?"

"You could say that. I can't really tell you anything though."

"Why not?"

"Not yet anyway. I'll tell you when I have what I need."

"You sound like some sort of secret agent." Stiles snorted, but he was smiling as he sipped at his coffee.

"Yeah I know." Derek leant over to kiss him, almost knocking the boiling hot coffee mug out of his hands. "Do you think it makes me sexy?"

Typical. Only Derek would bring sex into a serious conversation like that. Stiles placed his mug on the small table, smiling sweetly at Derek. He let the man get close enough for a kiss, leant in, and then pulled before Derek could kiss him.

"Oh come on!" Derek called after him as he strolled out of the room. "That was mean! I never knew you were a tease!"

By the time he returned Derek had finished his own drink and was drinking Stiles's mug with a smug expression. Stiles sat beside him with a small notebook with random scribbling in in.

"You better not be working."

"Nope. I need to write a list of all of the things that I can do so I can look for a new job." The declaration was made in a voice full of uncertainty and Derek slid his arm around him.

"There's one more reason that I hate Jackson."

"Yeah?" He needed that last push to help him take that step and leave the git in his past and Derek seemed to know that.

"He told me if I gave him two hundred thousand he'd stay away from you."

"He what?" That was ridiculous. It was the sort of thing that happened in a gangster film, not in real life. "When?"

"That night when you were drunk." Derek snorted, shaking his head. "You started yelling at him, passed out, and I helped him get you into the car."

"What did you say?"

"I told him to fuck off."

"Could you give me some time on my own please?" He said it so calmly, so in control, when inside his head he was crumbling into little pieces.

He hated Jackson. He knew that. He didn't expect anything from him aside from the cold shoulder, glares and disappointment. It still hurt though. Asking for that money from Derek was degrading. The fact that Jackson had even put a value on him that way made his skin crawl. Stiles sighed, pulling Derek's jumper over his head as Derek stepped out on deck and the cold air hit him.

He had a few choices.

Stick it through. Plan the wedding, make Erica's day perfect. Carry on until Jackson kicked him out of the office.

Plan the wedding and quit at the end of it, leaving Olive's account in Jackson's hands for the future.

Walk away from it all. Away from Jackson, the job, Olive, Erica…Derek…

No. That wasn't going to happen. In fact none of them were. He'd end up screwed if Jackson fired him, and he needed to move out of the estate after what happened to him. If he finished the wedding then all of Olive's money would go to Jackson and he'd be left with no money to buy a new flat.

There was no way he could walk away from Derek and Derek would never let him walk away from the wedding when he'd worked so hard.

His phone beeped and he slowly picked it up.

****Hope you're feeling better soon Stiles! I miss you. Erica xxx p.s. Mother is driving me insane. If she wasn't involved so much in my big day I'd chuck her in a canal with some nice lead shoes.****

He laughed.

****Best way to deal with her is agree with everything and then go ahead and order what you wanted instead. She changes her mind so much it's easy to make her think it was her idea. I'll be back on Monday so try not to get too wound up.****

The phone was barely placed down on the table when she responded, somehow replying in about 0.3 seconds flat. Knowing Erica she'd written him an essay too.

****But you're way better at dealing with people than me. Hell, better than all of those idiots that you work with. You should be running the place, not letting that lot of morons boss you around.****

That was it! That was the answer! She'd just given him a new choice that was perfect.

****Erica! You're a genius!****

He didn't bother waiting for a reply, leaving the phone abandoned on the sofa in order to search out Derek.

"What's wrong?" Derek reached for him as he approached and Stiles smiled.

"Derek, I need your help again."

"What with?"

"Just promise me you'll come with me on Monday morning."

"Is this going to hurt me?" It was more a playful jibe as Derek guided Stiles to the rail. "Look down; there are some cygnets."

"They're cute." Stiles gushed, peeping over the rail as best he could with his injuries. The six were grey and fuzzy and very small compared with the large fully grown pure white swan beside them.

"Here, throw them some bread." Derek handed him a small bag, more interested in settling beside Stiles and sliding both arms around him firmly.

"It's not going to hurt you." Stiles threw a handful of torn up bread slices down to the graceful birds and smiled. "Can I have one?"

"What?"

"A swan. Can I have one?"

"No Stiles. Any swan on British land belongs to the queen." Derek tapped his nose as the smaller man twisted to pout up at him. "You can't own one."

"You know some really useless information." Stiles grumbled, twisting more and lifting his good arm to loop it around Derek's neck. " Kiss me now."

"You're being demanding today." Derek commented, leaning down to obey.

Stiles liked kissing Derek, it was easy, relaxed, and the man was never too aggressive. Jackson hadn't been a very good kisser.

"I'm going to be more demanding." Stiles admitted, fingers catching in the hair at the back of Derek's head. "We're going to stay for another night."

"Are we now?" Derek didn't seem too annoyed, he was grinning at him. "Why?"

"Because you're going to show me the sunset over the sea tonight and then you're going to take me to bed." Stiles rose to his toes to kiss him again. "Or would you rather I went home?"

"No, I think I can manage that." He'd never seen Derek grin like that, even when they were kids or teenagers, even when he'd been at that party and accidentally walked in on Derek and some pretty ginger girl. "I have some work I need to do before Monday though. Do you mind?"

"Not at all. I have things to do too."

They settled back in the cabin, Derek with his laptop balanced on the table, a new cup of coffee and Stiles's feet resting on his lap.

Stiles didn't really get much done, he'd intended to write a list of everything that he needed to check up on when he got back to work on the Monday but every time he attempted to try to concentrate he caught himself sneaking peeks at Derek. The man was completely absorbed in whatever he was doing, it looked like a big mess of numbers and percentages from where he was sitting, but Derek was very interested in his task. He was so focused on what he was doing that Stiles actually managed to steal a good portion of his coffee before he noticed.

"You could have just asked me to make you one."

"This was more fun."

"I think I like you when you're high on morphine." Derek drained the last of the mug and looked over at Stiles. "What?"

"I haven't taken any of the morphine since yesterday. I'm just being me."

"Oh right." Derek hesitated, then leant over and kissed him. "Then I'm glad that you're finally relaxing around me."

"What time is sunset?" It was getting too soppy for Stiles so he had to change the subject.

"It's usually around quarter past eight around this time of year."

"So we have time to cook?" Stiles's stomach growled as he asked and Derek nodded, saving his work quickly.

"I'm not so sure about the cooking but I'll take you somewhere nice."

Stiles didn't want to leave the safe shell they were settled in on the boat and shook his head. If he went out there it would change something and the day would be ruined.

"Let me cook."

"Stiles…last time you cooked for me I spent two days throwing it all back up."

"I was twelve!" Stiles hissed at him, insulted when Derek laughed at his response.

"Look, face it. Your brother can cook. You should stick to what you're good at and leave that stuff to him." Derek was pulling his trainers on and Stiles sat back down on the chair. "Now what?"

"Go eat on your own."

"Oh for crying out loud Stiles! I was just being playful!" Derek dragged fingers through his hair in exasperation. "Put your shoes on."

"Go to hell."

"Whatever."

He left.

Stiles stared after him. He wasn't supposed to leave. He was supposed to talk him round, make him change his mind, show how much he wanted Stiles to go with him.

A few minutes later his phone rang and he reluctantly dug it out from under the sofa cushions. Erica.

"Hello Erica." His greeting was subdued and he curled up on the chair awkwardly, wondering if Derek had left his morphine tablets or if they were still in his pocket.

"What the hell did you do?"

"Uh Erica. Back up and explain." Was it something to do with the wedding again? More complications would be a good distraction from the fact that he'd just been an idiot.

"Isaac just got a call from Derek."

"Oh." Well that wasn't exactly wedding stuff.

"He's wandered off. Now tell me what you did."

"I…" Stiles wasn't sure. He didn't know what he'd been thinking. "We were talking about dinner plans and I flipped out a bit."

"Define 'a bit' so I can get my head around this." She sighed and he heard her closing a door.

"I just refused to cooperate until he left on his own."

"Why?"

"I…"

"Stiles?"

"I don't know." Stiles mumbled, staring at Derek's laptop screen. "He has a screen saver of me."

"Huh?"

"His screen saver. It's a photo of Me, Marcus and him when we were kids." Stiles bit his lip. "Erica I don't know what I'm doing."

"You've confused me."

"Sorry. Look, I like him, and I don't want him to give up but for some reason I'm making it really hard for him to do anything nice, or even say nice things to me." He watched the screen saver as he flicked through photos. There were a lot of Marcus and Derek, and a surprising number of Stiles with them.

"I get it." She actually laughed. "You're pushing him to see what your boundaries are."

"I'm what?"

"You're pushing him. Think about it for a minute. Did you ever dare to do any of those things to Jackson the Moron?"

"Well no, but that was because he never gave me any room to argue anything. Whatever he said was law." Stiles had been able to deal with that, it was easier to do what other people wanted than think about what you wanted yourself.

"Derek gives you complete freedom as long as he's part of things."

Which was exactly the reason that Stiles struggled so much around him. Derek was genuine, and Derek would easily be able to break him into a million tiny pieces if he decided he didn't want to be with him anymore.

"Stiles? You okay kitten?"

"Yeah. Thanks Erica."

"Do you know what you're going to do?"

"I think so. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Text me if you need me. I'm your genius friend after all."

He had a plan.

First step: Discover what was in the cupboards.

Second step: Call Marcus.

When Derek finally came back Stiles was hovering in the small boat kitchen nervously, shifting from one foot to the other.

"What's this?" He was baffled when Derek held out a bag.

"Clothes. I figured by tomorrow you'd be fed up with wearing the same pair." Derek shrugged, eyes drifting to the table. "You cooked?"

"No. Well yes." Stiles bit his lip. "I rang Marcus."

"And Marcus told you what to do." Derek was trying not to laugh but Stiles didn't care. He was just glad that Derek wasn't mad anymore. "It smells good."

"I hope it tastes okay."

It didn't. The chicken was overcooked, the sauce had too much pepper, the potatoes were undercooked and the vegetables all tasted of butter. Stiles poked at it miserably, silently accusing the food of sabotaging itself.

"You know, this makes me wish I didn't have taste buds." Derek suddenly declared, grimacing throughout his attempt to swallow a piece of chicken. "You could build houses with this Stiles."

"Thanks." He felt his face heat up and sighed. "Guess I really can't cook."

"It's okay. You're good at pretty much everything else you do."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Derek topped Stiles's wine glass up. "Sorry I ran off like that."

"Don't apologise to me."

"Stiles."

"It was my fault." Stiles whispered, staring down at his barely touched dinner. "I didn't realise it but I'm starting fights and pushing you as much as possible and I can't seem to stop myself."

"You've always been like this."

"Only to you."

"Why do it then?"

"I think…" He took a deep breath. "I think it's because it scares me how easy it is to be around you."

"Stiles I drive you nuts." Derek snorted, amused. "I know I do. I do it on purpose. I always have."

"Be serious for five minutes please. Look, I'm trying to say that I like you. More than like I guess, and that's why I get like this."

Derek stood up and pulled him out of his chair gently, sliding an arm around him. He opened his mouth to say something but Stiles quickly covered it with his own. They'd missed their sunset but that didn't mean the whole evening was cancelled. It took a couple of nudges before Derek was able to react and obey. He picked Stiles up and carried him through to the bedroom.


	14. Maps

Lovers and Brothers

"I didn't hurt you too much did I?"

Stiles shook his head as he watched Derek place the coffee down beside him. It was awkward; the taller man unable to make eye contact and Stiles hoping that his face wasn't bright red. Being with Derek in bed hadn't worked too well, it was just too much too soon after his injuries and although he'd tried to push himself Derek had firmly halted things. On waking up Stiles was mortified that he hadn't been able to go through with it, feeling like a tease because it had been his idea, and Derek's refusal to meet his eyes just made things worse.

"Do you want any of your pain medication?" Derek sat on the edge of the bed and Stiles nodded.

His shoulder was giving him hell; the result of attempting to cling to Derek. He'd let them both down. Maybe if he had a higher pain threshold he would have been able to actually give Derek a good time, instead he'd bawled his eyes out in pain and ended up sniffling into his pillow after Derek shovelled morphine into him.

"Why are you awake so early?" Stiles yawned, awkwardly sitting up. As soon as he got some coffee he was taking more of those morphine capsules off Derek.

"I have to go to work."

"But it's Sunday." Who worked on a Sunday?

"Unfortunately that isn't going to mean much to my old man." Derek shrugged, rooting through one of the drawers beside the bed. "Get dressed and I'll drop you home."

"Uhm…"

That was it. Things were ruined and all because he gave in to a little bit of pain. Derek could have anyone he wanted and he'd just proved that he was not good enough for him. Stiles bit his lip as he watched his…boyfriend?

He wanted to say boyfriend but he wasn't sure. What was he to Derek? They hadn't really discussed it between the fighting and tormenting each other had they?

"Are you mad at me?" He sounded like an idiot in his head but the question escaped him anyway and there was no taking the words back.

"No." Derek looked over at him, surprised, and Stiles swallowed.

It was odd that only a few hours before they'd been on the verge of being so close and it had felt so right but in the light of the morning they were on either side of the room and he'd never felt so vulnerable. Why did he feel so awkward?

"Jesus Stiles." Derek rolled his eyes, still shoving items into his rucksack. "Don't be an idiot."

"Shut up." Why did Derek have to be such an insensitive bastard sometimes?

"Stiles."

"Go away."

"Stiles."

"Derek."

"I'll still be there tomorrow if you want me there. I just have to go and sort this out before the old man gets wind of it." Derek knelt in front of him, smiling a little smugly. "Do you really think I'm the sort to kick you out after one bad night?"

Well, maybe he'd have thought that in the past but he'd seen part of Derek that he'd never known about; the nice, thoughtful, rather fluffy side of him. Stiles shook his head slowly, a smile creeping onto his face.

"I could come to work with you." He just didn't want the time to end. No doubt the moment they were back in the real world things wouldn't be as good.

"No. I'll take you to Marcus's."

"I don't want to go to Marcus's."

"Why do you have to be so stubborn all the time?"

"Why are you trying to get rid of me?"

"Oh don't be such a child." Derek stood, pulling away abruptly, and stuffed the last of the junk into his rucksack. "I'm leaving in ten minutes. Pack your stuff and get dressed."

"I hate you." Stiles shouted after him, and Derek just gave him the finger as he walked out.

* * *

><p><em><em>"Neurosis.<em>_ A relatively mild mental illness that is not caused by organic disease, involving symptoms of stress (depression, anxiety, obsessive behaviour, hypochondria) but not a radical loss of touch with reality." Stiles snapped the dictionary shut and looked up at Marcus expectantly.

"Yeah, you've got the hypochondria bit down alright." He grunted, rubbing the back of his head. "Stiles, there's nothing wrong with you."

"Yes there is."

"No, there isn't." A large cookie was dunked into the strong coffee and Marcus sighed. "Why the hell did you decide to try to sleep with my best friend anyway?"

"I like him." Stiles flushed, nibbling on the corner of a triangle cookie. "I thought he liked me."

"He does. Still don't understand why you had to shag each other." Marcus muttered sullenly, not looking impressed at all.

"Does it really bother you that much?"

Stiles hadn't even considered how his brother would feel about it all; he'd just concentrated on how he felt in response to Derek's feelings. It was a little worrying, they hadn't always been the closest of siblings but they were getting along much better.

"Not as much as I thought it would." Marcus grabbed a star shaped cookie. "I always thought it would be really weird when you two got to it."

Now that was an odd thing to say. Stiles slowly chewed on the last cookie, this one in the shape of a pentagon and frowned at Marcus.

"__When we got to it__?"

"Don't say it like that." Marcus grinned at him, snapping off one of the corners of the pantagon and stealing it. "What do you think of the cookies?"

"They're nice." Stiles muttered, staring at him suspiciously. "And don't change the subject."

"He's had a thing for you since you were thirteen." His brother huffed, slouching on the couch. "I told him to leave you alone back then, we were sixteen and you were just too young. When you started giving him those looks, when you were sixteen, I told him to stay away again."

"He's really liked me that long?"

"Didn't you notice?"

"That's kind of creepy if you think about it. Thirteen is really little." Stiles mumbled, eyes wide. "I guess I didn't notice because he was always really nasty."

"He was pulling your pigtails." Scoffing, Marcus rolled his eyes. It seemed he'd been the only one of the three of them that was fully aware of the situation from the beginning.

"But I never wear pigtails."

"Moron." Marcus was taking Battle Royale out of the DVD case on the coffee table and edging towards the DVD player. "That's a phrase. It's what little boys do when they first get a crush on someone, they don't know how else to behave to get the attention they crave so they push them over or pull their pigtails. Girls do it too, just not as much I think."

"I thought he was just mean."

"Yeah, he can be. Mostly, he just likes to wind people up."

Stiles nodded, curling up awkwardly on the couch. He was asleep half way through the film, head full of questions about Derek, their relationship and whether or not he'd been enough of a brat that morning to warrant giving Derek an apology.

* * *

><p><strong><strong>Sorry. I should have been nicer this morning.<strong>**

The first apology came from Derek and Stiles found himself secretly pleased about it. Previously, with Jackson and the others it was always him who had to buckle and throw in the towel first whether it was his fault or not.

****I'm sorry too. I should have realised it was important.****

He could hear Marcus in the kitchen chopping something up, muttering to himself about oven temperatures. He was impressed at how well his brother could cook; he could cook anything whereas Stiles was lucky not to set the toaster on fire when he made toast.

****You're more important than work. I should have made them wait until we'd had breakfast.****

Marcus must have really enjoyed cooking though because he had more recipe books on his shelves than the last bookshop Stiles had been in. He literally had every possible book available; traditional English, Italian, French, polish, Australian, American, fish, poultry, lamb, pork, game meat, soups, roasts, grills, stews, baked, cheese, deserts, starters, main meals, pasta, various celebrity chefs…

****It's okay.****

"I think your collection of books is probably worth more than my flat." Stiles declared when Marcus wandered in with a smudge of flour across his face and all over his clothes.

"Probably. You live in a shit hole."

****It ISN'T okay. I'll make it up to you.****

"It's not that bad."

"You got mugged. I still think you should move in here."

"Can I have some time to think about it first."

"You do realise that between Derek, the Reyess and myself you have no chance of living there again right?" Marcus actually laughed at him and Stiles sighed.

"Just let me think about my options first please."

"Okay. What vegetables do you want?"

****You don't have to do that. I take it you're finished with whatever you had to do?****

"Broccoli."

"Anything else?"

"Broccoli."

****No. We're still trawling through it all but I'm bored now. How are you feeling now?****

Head shaking, Marcus wandered back into the kitchen and Stiles sat down carefully, hand pressed to his side. He needed more painkillers if movement was hurting so much again.

He had a lot to think about.

Things had to change and he had to change them.

****Still sore but I'm due for more morphine soon. Marcus is cooking.****

Taking control over your own life was a lot harder than Stiles had anticipated. The idea of turning around and refusing to do something, or changing something, without permission or approval was terrifying. He envied Erica, someone who could easily say no or map out her own life. Even Marcus had taken control; he had a nice home, good friends, a new girlfriend and from the sound of it a good job too.

It was easy for them. Easy to just take when they wanted.

"What are you glooming about Kitty?" Marcus placed a timer down on the coffee table and a two glasses of lemonade.

"It's easy for you."

"What is?" Apparently it wasn't difficult to make Marcus have that confused look on his face.

"Life. Everything."

"You think so?" Suddenly Marcus wasn't smiling. "I've never thought so. I don't think anyone has it easy."

"You have friends."

"So do you." Marcus's eyebrows rose as he stared at Stiles. "That Erica woman is one."

"The only one and even that is a new thing." He'd had a very lonely childhood. He'd been the quiet ghostly kid at school that stayed in the corner of the library at lunch time and never spoke to anyone. Even most of the teachers hadn't known who was. "You have a girlfriend too."

"So do you." Marcus blinked, realising what he'd said. "Sorry. I meant you have Derek."

"Your house is expensive."

"I've already offered for it to be your house too."

"I do like your house. It's the sort of thing I've always aimed for."

"So move in." Marcus was idly tapping his foot on the coffee table as he fired replies to the statements Stiles sent his way.

"Marcus…"

"If it makes you feel better I'll charge you rent and make a cleaning rota." He grinned at his little brother cheekily. "Just promise me you'll never attempt to cook without supervision."

"Funny."

"Jokes aside, you need to realise that no one has the perfect easy life, no one has everything they want, but some people are a little luckier. Some people start life with a bit more money, a bit more love and some are just more brave and take the risks they need to." That was probably the deepest thing that Marcus had ever said to him.

"I guess that makes me a coward."

"Are you unhappy Stiles?"

"Not with Derek. He's difficult at times but he's not so bad," He mumbled, staring at the timer on the table as it counted down. "I just feel like everything else in my life isn't going anywhere."

"Are you trying to go somewhere specific?"

"I don't know. I never thought about it before."

"So why are you worrying? You can't achieve goals if you haven't set any." That made sense too.

"What are your goals?" He'd never asked Marcus anything about his life. They just didn't talk about Marcus, it was always about whatever mess Stiles had landed himself in.

"Pay the mortgage off this house, get married, have a family, own my own restaurant." Marcus shrugged one shoulder. "I've always wanted to invent a new soup."

"Own your own restaurant?" That was unexpected. Did Marcus even have restaurant experience? Yes, he was a good cook but was he good enough for the catering industry?

"Yeah. I'm a chef, it's kind of obvious."

A chef.

How had he not known that? Marcus had gone to college and done a number of evening courses, he'd cooked a thousand delicious meals, and not once had he thought about asking him about it. Did that make him a bad brother?

"Thanks."

"What for?"

"Talking. You've never told me about your life before."

"You never asked."

"Can I ask now?"

"Go ahead we have another fifteen minutes before the pie is finished." Marcus grinned and Stiles felt relief. Marcus's favourite food was pie, and that was something he actually knew for definite about his brother.

"Where do you work?"

"In one of the restaurants in Town Square. The Italian one."

"Alessio's?" That was one of the most exclusive restaurants in town. "How did you get a job there?"

"I was out with Maria a few years ago, she insisted we go there." Marcus's smile faded; Maria had been his girlfriend for four years until Marcus proposed. Instead of accepting the proposal she'd ended their relationship and never looked back. "I had soup for the starter and asked to talk to the chef. When I started talking to him we got chatting about soups and our cooking preferences and the next thing I knew Fabio asked me to join him the next day for a more in depth discussion. Somehow I impressed him enough and he offered me a job. He's Alessio's son."

"That's really cool."

"You know what you need to do don't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You need to change the things in your life that make you unhappy."

"Yeah. I know." He already had the first step planned after all. He just hoped that e was brave enough to go through with it and stand up to Jackson.


	15. Shake It Off

The Right Thing?

"Why are you here?"

Morning meant that thought processes were slow, there was a requirement for small words, simple statements, and there was very little tolerance for confusion.

"Good morning Stiles." Derek handed him a coffee and a bagel and the younger man stared at them for a long time, his brain struggling to comprehend what his blurry eyes saw. "It's a blueberry bagel and a strong latte."

"Oh. Thank you." Stiles yawned for what felt like the fifty-millionth time that morning and let his eyes dart up to meet Derek's. "Why are you here?"

"You asked me to be here." Derek shrugged, amused. "Sit down. When you're awake you can explain why you wanted me here."

The addition of coffee meant that normal thought processes were regained and Stiles hastily swallowed his medication as the pain registered. Derek watched the whole ordeal with a grin on his face, thoroughly enjoying Stiles's private performance of a zombie animating.

"That better?" Derek asked when he was finally able to compute his location and present company.

"Yeah."

"Late night?"

"Hardly. Marcus is an old man; he goes to bed after Corrie, reads a recipe book or some food magazine for an hour and then he goes to sleep, at which point he has old man dreams about soup." Stiles grumbled, swallowing the last of the coffee. It was incredibly good coffee. "I slept badly because I couldn't find my drugs."

"Marcus watches Corrie?" It was like Derek's birthday had arrived early. "I'm never going to let him live this down."

"Please make him suffer. He made me sit through the omnibus yesterday and I thought I was going to die of boredom."

Derek laughed, it was no secret that Stiles wasn't a TV fan, he was too much of a fidget to sit in front of a screen for too long. Even if he did enjoy TV his job was so hectic he barely had a moment spare to even watch any.

"So what am I doing here?"

"I need you to drive me to the office."

"You're not supposed to be working." Derek frowned and Stiles glared at him.

"I need to."

"Well I'm not helping you. The only reason Deaton let me take you out of the hospital was because I promised not to let you push yourself." Derek glared back at him.

"I'm not a baby."

"Well you're acting like one."

"I am not!"

"Grow up then. You should be asleep right now. Sleep is the best way to heal injuries!" Derek snapped, it wasn't anger though, it was frustration.

Maybe it was time to try a new tactic?

"Derek please." He gave Derek a hopeful smile and the man froze.

"You're a brat." The millionaire growled, standing up. "Don't flutter your eyelashes to manipulate me."

"If you drive me to the office this morning I promise I won't stay longer than half an hour and I'll move out of my flat!" He called after him desperately and Derek paused, stopping at the doorway.

There was no way he could say no to that.

"Half an hour." Derek stated, lips quirking into a smug grin. "You'll move in with me."

Oh dear god no.

He must have looked terrified because Derek's expression smoothed out and he sighed, dragging fingers through his hair. He felt guilty but at the same time he knew that it was too soon for them to live together. He needed to put himself in a more secure position where he didn't have to rely on Derek for everything. He refused to live off the man even if he was stinking rich and could afford it.

"Just get your shoes." Derek sighed, heading to the bottom of the stairs to grab Stiles's jacket from the bottom of the bannister.

The drive was tense, more so than Stiles expected but he didn't know what to say. They'd not even discussed if they were properly together so why was Derek so annoyed that he wasn't sure about living with him?

"Are you using me?" Derek didn't look at him once they were parked in the car park and Stiles bit his lip.

"Why do you keep asking me that?" Was he really that bad at showing any form of appreciation?

"Why won't you live with me?"

It dawned. Derek felt just as vulnerable as him about their new situation. Stiles smiled weakly at him, baffled. Derek could have anyone and yet there he was; unsure about him – pathetic, dependant, indecisive Stiles.

"Because I have no idea where I stand with you." Stiles just blurted it out, not sure if there was any way of putting it more delicately. "What exactly do you want from me? A relationship? A lifelong commitment? A quick fling? A fuck buddy?"

"You're an idiot." Derek stated; giving him that look, the one he gave every time Stiles was being detrimentally stubborn or was thinking the wrong thing.

"Can we talk after I've done this? I think it's a conversation we need to have."

"Do you want me to wait here?"

"Uhm…" That was a good question. "I sort of need you to come with me."

"Why?"

"Moral support. This is a big thing for me."

"What exactly are you doing here?" Derek was suspicious but he sounded amused too, maybe he liked being needed?

"You'll see."

The office was full. Kira and Aiden were arguing over the best caterer for some event, both hating each other's choices. Braeden was reading a magazine about cats, not paying a single bit of attention to anyone else around her, not even to glance at them as they stepped through the door. In fact the only person to notice his return was Danny, who was sat at his desk behind the pile of paperwork, watching him with a raised eyebrow.

No.

He was watching Derek.

Stiles hesitated before he glanced up at Derek and worry filled him when he saw that Derek was staring back at the boyfriend stealing idiot. He didn't like that one bit. Was he going to lose another one to Danny?

"What are you doing here? Don't you have that ridiculous wedding to…" Jackson's question trailed off as he stared at Stiles and he looked between him and Derek with a frown. "What happened?"

"I got mugged." Stiles shrugged, as if it was an every day occurrence and Jackson clenched his jaw. "I need to talk to you."

"I'm busy."

"It's important."

"I said I'm busy."

"Jackson pl-"

"Fucking hell Stiles! What part of I'm busy do you not understand?"

Stiles took a step back when Jackson slammed his fist down on the desk and Derek quickly placed a hand on his healthy shoulder to offer him some silent support. His other hand was holding Jackson's office door open for some reason. Stiles was actually a little thankful that Derek didn't step in and yell at Jackson because it was clear from his expression he really wanted to.

"You have no idea about what's going on here! Go back to the Reyes wedding and stay out of the office."

"But-"

"I said go."

"I QUIT!"

Silence.

So that was why Derek was holding the door open. It was so everyone heard. Even Aiden and Kira had stopped arguing, Braeden was looking up from her magazine, and Danny was still staring but at least his attention had moved focus. Stiles was going to make sure he showed him how appreciative he was of Derek for that.

"Really?" Jackson didn't care, in fact he looked like Stiles quitting was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.

"Yes."

"Funny." Jackson smirked, a horrible nasty smirk. "I was under the impression that you needed the money."

Stiles swallowed as the man placed the wad of paper in his hand down on the desk between them. It was a side of Jackson he'd seen a couple of times but he didn't like it, it scared him.

"Or are you exchanging certain less than satisfactory skills for money from Mr Hale and his friends?"

If Stiles hadn't yelped in pain at the sudden movement Derek would have flown over that desk and smacked Jackson in the face, as it was the cry of pain made Derek freeze before he lunged and he started fussing over him. It was sweet that he was so worried, something that he was beginning to get used to. Apparently Derek worried every time he got hurt.

"I'm quitting because I've had enough." Stiles stated when his courage flared up again. "It's effective immediately."

"I guess poor Erica Reyes is going to have to cancel her wedding then."

Why?

Jackson looked too happy. Had he missed something? What was the cause of that smirk?

"No she doesn't." Derek snapped for him when Stiles failed to respond.

"Yes, actually, she will." Jackson gestured to Stiles. "He signed a contract clearly stating that in the event of a termination of employment any further work with any client he met through this company will be breaching his agreement and I'll be able to take him to the cleaners."

Oh.

That was what he'd forgotten.

"Stiles?"

"Yes. I remember reading that."

How __could__ he have forgotten that? Knowing Jackson he'd refuse to accept any retracting of his announcement that he was quitting. He was an idiot. Simple as that. Not only had he screwed himself over but he'd screwed Erica over too. He was a dead man. If Olive or Erica didn't get to him first then Isaac would.

"Get out." Jackson laughed and Stiles swallowed.

That was it?

"Now Stiles. I'm fed up with you and I don't ever want to see your face again." He paused, eyeing him. "Pity they didn't improve your face a bit with that cricket bat."

His legs almost gave way but Derek was there. Derek was always there. Derek always had the solution to whatever obstacle he'd fallen over.

"Walk." Derek's command was just a whisper and Stiles the only person to hear it but it made him force himself to move.

They left, Stiles in a daze at what he'd just done. One minute he was adamant and almost excited at what he was going to do and then next he was wishing he'd held his tongue. He'd ruined everything for Erica. The wedding was going to fail. He was officially a dead man.

Jackson had won.

Most of all he realised that he hated Jackson. Hated every part of him with all of his being. How the hell had he put up with him for so long? Why had he done it? The man was a waste of space. A nasty, selfish, malicious waste of space.

The worst part wasn't the wasted time. It wasn't the loss of his job; it was knowing that he'd let Erica down.

* * *

><p>"You okay now?" He was sitting at a tiny stained table in the corner of a little café and he'd consumed his own weight in chocolate milkshake.<p>

"I think so." Stiles grimaced, thinking of the up coming confrontation with Erica, Isaac and Olive. "No."

"You did the right thing." Derek told him again, he must have said it a thousand times since he practically dragged him from the office. "Trust me."

"Did I?"

"What do you think?" Derek stirred his coffee absently, scraping all of the froth from the edges of the faded blue mug, the movement was hypnotising and Stiles sighed, resting his chin on his hand.

What did he think? Beyond terror at what Olive would do to him he couldn't really think about it. If he was honest with himself he knew one thing; it was the right thing to do. The way things were going it would have happened anyway but he'd taken control, he'd been brave just as Marcus said, and he'd taken his risk.

"I did the right thing."

"You did." Derek grinned at him and there was pride there in his eyes. It made Stiles want to grin stupidly back at him. "I suppose we need to have our talk now too?"

What talk?

"Oh." That talk. The one about what they were to each other and what they wanted. "Now?"

"Yes."

"Uhm…"

"We're doing this now."

"Why?"

"Why put it off?" He'd almost forgotten how pushy Derek could be. "What do you want from this?"

"I uh, I guess…this…us…" Stiles bit his lip, lost. Was there a way to say it that wasn't going to make him look clingy? All of the bravery from that morning had vanished and he couldn't even hide behind Derek.

"Right." Derek didn't look happy, the feet that were tangled with his own under the table pulled away and Stiles swallowed.

Be brave.

Take the risk.

Everyone else did it!

"I want to know that in ten, or twenty, or thirty, or forty years you're still going to be there." As soon as the words left him Stiles felt his cheeks heat up but he ploughed on. "I want a relationship. A proper relationship. I want us to be there for each other, and all of that stuff that people mock; flowers, romance, dinner, Christmas, birthdays, surprises, picnics, a bottle of wine and a pack of chips on the sea wall, security, dependence, private jokes. Love."

Derek was staring at him with an odd expression, a strangely angry look on his face. Maybe that wasn't what Derek wanted? Had he just made a massive mistake?

"Derek?"

"Yeah me too." The words were right but he was distracted by someone. "Did they use a cricket bat when they mugged you?"

"Huh?" Where the hell had that question come from?

"I'm sorry but this is important."

"Yes." It wasn't like he could forget after all.

"Did you tell anyone that?"

"No. I hadn't actually thought about it until you asked. What exactly are you getting at?"

"Jackson knew."

"What?" His mouth was suddenly very dry and his head felt fuzzy. "He knew what?"

"He knew that your muggers had a cricket bat."


	16. Everything I Own

I Love You. Idiot.

"Derek?" He placed a tentative hand over the one Derek had resting on the gear stick. "You're not going to do anything stupid are you?"

"Define stupid."

"Something illegal, violent. Uhm." He didn't really want to give Derek too many ideas. "Something stupid that would take you away from me."

He didn't care if that sounded hopelessly soppy, the idea of Derek not battering through his defences and his life stung more than he'd believed it would. There was no way he would be able to deal with that. Once, he'd been quite happy not to see Derek, or Marcus, for months on end but things had changed.

Derek had changed. They both had really. Somewhere in the years apart they'd both grown up.

"I'm not leaving you Stiles." Derek flashed that smug grin and for a second he had to question whether he'd changed after all. "But I am going to destroy Jackson slowly and painfully."

"If you beat him up then I'll definitely lose you! He'll just go running straight to the police."

"Recon he was one of those kids that ran to mummy every time someone wouldn't share their toys?" Derek laughed, turning the engine on. "I think he used to get beaten up by girls."

"Derek!" Stiles let out a heavy sigh, trying not to give in to the anger. "Take this seriously!"

"I am. You need to relax."

"RELAX!" At the widening of the arrogant millionaire's eyes Stiles knew his boyfriend had realised that he'd said the wrong thing. How was he supposed to relax when his ex-boyfriend had just revealed how nasty he really was?

"Yeah." Derek leant across the car, smacking their lips together with a lazy smirk.

He wanted to be mad at him, he really did, but he just couldn't. Derek was just…

He was a really good kisser.

"Please just concentrate on healing." Derek murmured against his lips, stroking fingers through his hair. "I'm not going to do something stupid. I know how to deal with people like Jackson the Moron."

The gentle touch and the use of Eri's nickname for the bastard dragged a small smile forward and Stiles nodded slowly. Jackson was going down, and he didn't even have to pull any weight, that had to be a good thing. Still, he just couldn't let the subject go.

"What exactly are you planning?"

"I'll tell you when it's done."

He didn't like the sound of that, or the expression on Derek's face. It made him think he was going to turn on the radio one day and hear that Derek had killed Jackson.

"You're not going to kill him are you?"

"You can be such an idiot sometimes." Derek's laughter broke the last of the tension and Stiles blushed, realising how silly the question was. "I'm not going to land myself in jail. He'll probably wish I did kill him when I'm done though."

"Why?"

"Because he's a dick."

"No. I meant why are you doing this for me?"

"I would have thought that was obvious." Derek didn't look at him as he pulled out of the car park. "I love you. Idiot."

"Oh."

* * *

><p>"Stiles!" Eri did something incredibly girly when she saw him standing in her kitchen; she burst into tears and hugged him tightly.<p>

"Ah!" He could mostly forget the pain but having his body squeezed by a surprisingly strong Eri was a little too much to ignore, even with the fresh morphine pumping through his system.

She jumped back, swallowing when he rubbed at his ribs and hastily wiped her eyes. Neither of them could move, or say anything. Stiles wasn't sure how to tell her that he had to abandon her and Eri trying not to stare at his bruises.

"Derek just said you'd been robbed." She finally broke the silence, shuffling over to the coffee in those stupid bunny slippers she seemed to live in. "I didn't realise you were like this."

"They had a cricket bat." He sat down slowly, beaming at her when she handed him coffee, still tearful. "Eri…"

"I want you to stay here with me."

"What?" That was certainly unexpected and he rubbed the back of his head as she sat opposite him, slim hands taking one of his in hers.

"Look, you're my friend Stiles and if you're in danger then I want to help you. I'll have Isaac and Boyd drive you home and pack up your things." She wasn't joking, or offering out of duty. She genuinely wanted him to be safe.

He'd never had a friend like that. Not once in all of his years at school and then working had he ever had a friend that cared enough to offer him such a thing. What did you say in response to that? How was he supposed to let her down after she was so sweet to him?

"Are you okay?"

"Uhm…" Oh, he must have zoned out again. "It's the pain medication; it makes me a little spacey."

"Oh right." She smiled at him, worry still present on her face, and he forced himself to mirror it. "So what do you say?"

"I have something to tell you first." He had to just be honest with her and tell her what his latest mess was. No doubt she wouldn't want him anywhere near her when she found out.

"Shoot."

"I wish you would not use such common phrases." Olive's voice made both of them jump; a reaction that just seemed to amuse her. In fact, she always seemed amused when she intimidated or upset anyone. "You look awful boy."

Boy?

Well that was a new one. At least it wasn't as insulting as some of the other things she's called him since they met. He bit his lip when she retrieved a tube of some ointment with a foreign label from one of the drawers and sat beside him.

"I had an interesting telephone call from your boss this morning." She announced, holding his chin tightly in her bony grip as she started spreading the sticky ointment along over the bruises on his face. "He tells me that you quit your job."

That was not how he wanted Eri to find out. She had a horrified expression on his face and it hurt that she looked so betrayed.

"You are still going to plan my wedding aren't you Stiles?" She asked shakily and he closed his eyes.

"I can't."

"I did not think you were the sort to give up." Olive scowled, not pausing in her less than gentle administrations. The ointment was starting to burn and he wasn't sure he could deal with any more on his face.

"If I plan the wedding he can press charges and sue me. I signed a contract about not stealing the company's clients." He really wished he'd remembered that before he opened his big mouth in the office.

"Ah." Olive slowed, abruptly releasing her grip on his chin and recapping the tube. "I'll apply more in a few hours."

"What is it?" Although hot, the burning sensation was actually beginning to sooth the pain of the bruising and it wasn't so bad.

"An ointment to reduce swelling and heal bruises. It's Italian and incredibly good quality."

"So good that Mother has people fly out to Italy to buy more whenever she starts running low." Eri laughed, reaching over to ruffle his hair.

"I still want you to plan my daughter's wedding."

"Jackson will have me sued."

"That clause in the contract is only relevant if you accept money for the job."

"You want me to do it for free?" Typical Olive Reyes! She didn't care about anything except herself and her stupid rich family!

"Don't be absurd." Olive sneered, rolling her eyes. "Sometimes I wonder how many brain cells you actually have in there."

"Mother! Be nice!" Eri's scolding did nothing to help him though and Stiles stared at the table. He didn't understand what Olive was hinting at. The batty old woman confused the hell out of him on a good day and it was even worse when he was spaced out.

"I am being nice." Olive countered without a second's hesitation, possibly believing that she __was__ and the statement had been warranted. "I have a solution for Stiles and this wedding issue."

"What?"

"Don't say 'what' it's impolite. The correct term here-"

"I get it!" Eri groaned, slumping over the table and hugging her coffee mug. "Just tell us what this amazing plan is."

"I am going to purchase his home." Olive declared, smug smile settling on her face as she helped herself to one of Eri's cookies. "I will pay the cost of the house with an additional sum that covers his job of planning your wedding."

"That's mental." Stiles muttered, completely thrown off balance. "Why would someone like you want to buy a rundown shit hole in a dodgy estate? No one will believe it."

"Actually…" Eri was grinning at her mother as if it was the best idea she'd ever heard. "It's genius. Allison would be able to have a lot of fun with that."

He was completely lost. Who was Allison? Why weren't they listening to him? Why had he even wanted to talk to them? Where was that morphine because he was starting to hurt again? Ever since he'd woken up he'd been in pain; his shoulder throbbing with every movement. Perhaps he and Derek had been a bit ambitious after all and he should have rested more.

Honestly though, given the choice he would never regret any of it. The pain was worth it. Being with Derek, out at the zoo and cuddled up together on the boat had been perfect. Even their stupid argument hadn't ruined how amazing it had felt to be the centre of the man's attention.

The second he yawned pain burst through his shoulder and he whimpered, clutching at it.

"Stiles?" Eri was giving him that worried look again. "You look really pale."

"Do you mind if I lie down?"

"In a minute." Olive frowned, pressing a hand to his cheek. "Though you __do__ look pale."

"You can sleep in one of the guest rooms Kitty." Eri offered, smiling sadly at him. "I'll take you up there."

"I shall explain as we walk."

It seemed pretty silly that he had an escort to take him to a room on the next floor but as soon as they reached the wing containing guest rooms he was relieved. He probably would have ended up lost if he attempted that trip alone. In all of his previous visits he'd only ever seen the kitchen, the hall, and some of the gardens.

"I sponsor a girl at one of the design colleges. She failed to earn a scholarship and petitioned that I sponsor her." Olive explained at the top of the stairs.

"Mother just liked Allison's stubborn streak. It took a year but she agreed to the sponsorship."

"She has shown more promise than any other student in her classes."

"So mother spoils her."

He was getting dizzy looking between them as they each tried to explain and he groaned. What the hell? Were they trying to impersonate the Weasley twins or something?

"Here. Lean against the wall." Eri guided him as Olive opened the door to a very ostentatious 'guest room' that was larger than his entire flat. "Look, if Mother buys your flat she can claim she bought it so that Allison could redesign it all and use it for her port folio. She has loads of projects where she's revamped big rooms and expensive houses but she needs to show that she can worked on a smaller scale in both space and budget. It's perfect to help Allison and it wouldn't be the first time Mother has done this."

"Oh." Well, when it was explained like that he understood why it was a good plan. He smiled weakly and let Eri help him to the bed.

The last thing he remembered was the sensation of someone pulling off his scruffy plimsolls before he was dead to the world.

* * *

><p>Falling asleep in Eri's guest was unprofessional.<p>

Waking up with a scream, gasping for air and bawling his eyes out was just humiliating. Of course it got worse when he realised that he was clutching at Derek, who was staring down at him with worry.

"Shit. I'm sorry." Stiles tried to pull away but Derek looped an arm around him and trapped him yet didn't hurt him at all. "Derek why is my arm all stiff."

"Deaton came over." The worried man switched the bed side lamp on; he was still in Olive's guest room but someone had changed his clothes and Derek had paperwork spread all over the huge dressing table in the corner.

"Who is Deaton?" Underneath the loose button up girl's pyjamas he was suddenly wearing his arm was tightly bandaged, in fact it was wrapped around his shoulder, body and he couldn't actually move his arm at all. "Am I wearing Eri's pyjamas?"

With the lamp on he could see Derek's face, and he looked so guilty. It reminded him of the time that Marcus had taken him to the party in Derek's lake house; he'd let Derek feed him alcohol until he was puking and unable to walk. Derek had blamed himself for all of it and sat with him all night.

"Deaton is the doctor that treated you in hospital. I called him when Olive summoned me. I think you scared them a little when they couldn't wake you up." Derek hesitated before speaking again. "I'm sorry."

"Well I'm confused."

"We over did it this weekend. Deaton had to reset your shoulder again because it got knocked back out." Derek's eyes were flickering between the bed sheets and the lamp. "Deaton had to bind it and Eri's were the only pyjamas we could find that fit you and didn't involve you lifting your arm up."

Where was the teenager that had tormented him? The man beside him was someone else. Someone better.

"It's not your fault. I should have been paying attention to my own body." Stiles stroked his cheek, a little hesitant at instigating the contact. "When did you get here?"

"A few hours ago." He stroked fingers over the bandages with a sigh. "I had to battle with my PA to get out of my afternoon meeting and she won. I climbed out of the window anyway."

That was insane. Stiles stared at him, trying to focus. He felt like someone had given him a triple dose of morphine because it was almost impossible to follow what Derek said.

"You broke out to see me?"

"Yeah. I've ruined my suit and my shoes though." He reached over the side of the bed to pick up a very ripped up designer shoe. The sole was almost completely detached from the actual she and the leather had deep scuff marks. "She's probably telling tales to Dad now."

"You should have stayed at work. I'm fine."

"Shut up Stiles."

"Hey. I'm ill. Be nice."

"A second ago you were fine."

"A second ago you were being nice."

"Things change."

"Yes they do. Go away."

"Don't start that again." Derek groaned but Stiles just gave him a level stare, not in the mood for playful bickering. "Okay, I get it. Behave or I get kicked out."

"Exactly. I need to sleep."

"Go ahead. I'll be right here." Derek kissed him, smiling faintly against his lips. "If you have another dream then I'm right here beside you."

The silence lasted all of about ten minutes before Stiles located Derek's hand amongst the blankets and squeezed it tight.

"Derek." He hated how small he felt and sounded.

"What's wrong?"

"I think I'm scared of going to sleep."

"Come here."

It was awkward but they managed to manoeuvre so that Derek had an arm around him and Stiles had his head against Derek's chest. The bigger man kissed the top of his head and began to talk softly about how he would take him out to do something of his choice when he was feeling better. Eventually Stiles fell asleep and it was Derek that stayed awake worrying.

"What was the dream about?"

"Cricket bats."

"I'm never going to let him hurt you again."

* * *

><p>With a thorough make over the boats were beautiful. Boyd had sanded them all down, replaced any broken or missing panels, and then coated each in a pale brown matt varnish. The result was Eri's 'fleet' as she called them with an audible note of pride. Stiles watched with amusement as she fussed over them, pointing out every single repair that had been made.<p>

"Do you want to take one out for a spin?" She looked so excited that he couldn't refuse so he gave a silent nod and let her usher him into the one that was already waiting in the water. "Boyd tested this one out yesterday so I know it won't sink."

"That's a relief."

"Are you okay?" She hesitated once they were settled in the boat and he sighed.

"Fine."

"Are you su-"

"Eri!"

"Sorry. Derek asked me to look after you." She placed each of the oars into the oarlocks, pushed them away from the newly repaired wooden jetty and began to row. "Oh! Did I tell you about the dress?"

"Which dress?" He didn't look up as he flicked through his work folder.

"The one that was stolen." Eri was heading straight for the centre of the lake. "The police tracked the woman down. Her real name is Caroline Parker."

Stiles froze. Caroline Miller? There was no way that could be right. It couldn't be a coincidence if it was the same person! He looked up at Eri's face and sighed.

"What did she look like?"

"Uhm." She was confused by the question but she answered it anyway. "Tall, probably near six feet, really long light brown hair that she always wore in a French plait, she had a burn scar on her right hand shaped like a heart."

That was Caroline Parker and there was no mistake.

"What's wrong?"

"I know her. She's Jackson's biological sister."

"Well fuck me."

Was it a coincidence that Jackson's biological sister was involved in one of the many hurdles he was experiencing on the job his career was hanging on? It was obvious that Jackson wanted him gone from the office but was he desperate enough to ask his sister to sabotage things? Eri was staring at the water with a dark look.

"Are you certain that the tree was diseased?" He asked slowly, thinking of how everything had changed that day.

"Well Mother seemed to think so but the gardener said that it hadn't shown any signs of disease and these things don't kill the tree overnight. He said he found charcoal around some lacerations around the base where it split but we thought he was just being defensive. None of the other trees that were near it have the disease and if the wind made it fall then why didn't the others around it fall too? Surely one of the weaker trees away from the summer house would have been more likely to fall." She pulled her knees up to her chest as she let the boat drift across the water. "What's going on Stiles?"

"I don't know." He stared at the first to-do list that he and Eri had written and frowned. "Somehow there's no way that this could be a collection of unrelated coincidences, not when they all point to Jackson."

"So what?"

"So I need to figure out why Jackson is so desperate to make me fail at this."

She nodded, gathering the oars again, and began to row them back towards the centre. He smiled at her and turned back to the list, making three headings.

__Things that have worked: Wine companies. Minister.__

__Sabotaged: Venue. Dress.__

__Company contacts (Did Jackson warn them off before I spoke to them):Caterers. Florists. Musicians. Serving staff hire. Car hire. Table accessory providers.__

__New plans he didn't know about: Boats. Outdoor tables. Generator. Horse and cart. New dress. Honeymoon.__

The only things that had been arranged without a hitch were any plans he made that Jackson was in the dark know about, or with a new company or individual that had no ties to Jackson and the company.

Suddenly Derek's theory about Jackson being involved in the more than just the attack didn't seem so silly.

"So what now?" Eri asked softly and Stiles gave her a smile.

"Now we have to find hotels for every single one of your guests."

The horror on her face almost made up for how his stomach was knots over the Jackson drama.


	17. Stay High

Trust

"Stop singing."

"Lighten up." Stiles grinned at his brother. "This is kind of exciting."

"I'd still rather you didn't sing the Inspector Gadget theme tune."

"It makes it seem more like we're secret agents."

"You're even weirder when you're on pain medication."

Wednesday morning in the office was the only time he could guarantee that no one would be there.

They had a weekly meeting over breakfast in a local coffee shop and charged it all to the company account. Stiles took the opportunity to sneak in at half nine, after Braeden had unlocked the doors and disabled the alarms for him. Eri and Isaac were under the watchful eye of Olive; the old dragon relishing in her role of slave driver as the two frantically tried to book enough hotel rooms for the guests that were travelling to them for the wedding.

He had two reasons for being in the office: to clear out his desk, and to find some evidence that Jackson had been sabotaging Eri's wedding. He'd managed to convince Marcus to drive him there, manipulating him with the whole '__you're my big brother and I need you__' speech, and his brother was stood at the window watching for his ex-colleagues just in case they finished early.

Stiles was sat at his desk, humming the Inspector Gadget theme tune, wondering if Marcus was going to be able to carry all of his junk.

"Fine. Sing if you have to, but do it quietly." Marcus grumbled, still staring out of the window. The abrupt tone did nothing to hide the small smile.

His desk was no longer his. That stupid Danny Lambert had completely taken over it, leaving the surface covered in a chaotic mixture of paperwork and empty orange juice bottles. He'd been considerate enough to dump most of Stiles's belongings into a ripped cardboard box that waited next to the desk but Stiles didn't trust the kid not to try to steal from him. He'd stolen Jackson after all.

It didn't take long for him to realise he was right.

There were items missing: his spare phone charger, a few CDs, his company address book with all of the companies they had contracts with, and his lucky pebble. The sight of the pebble made him glance up at Marcus warily, embarrassed by the story behind it and hoping his big brother wouldn't see it. Marcus had given him the grey rock when he was five, an attempt to convince his annoying cry baby brother to stop following him and Derek around the park. It had a face drawn on it in black marker and he'd carried the stupid thing around for most of his childhood until he'd realised that Marcus and Derek were laughing at him.

His address book was in one of the top drawers, the CDs piled up underneath the computer monitor, the phone charger was plugged in and his lucky pebble was dumped in the biggest drawer on the right hand side on top of a hoody.

A very familiar hoody.

"No way." His whisper made Marcus turn and he held it up to show him, fighting with disbelief.

It couldn't be.

It had to belong to someone else. They must have just gone to the same shop.

"Isn't that Derek's?" Marcus asked absently, glancing at him and Stiles shrugged.

Why did Danny Lambert have Derek's hoody?

No. It couldn't be his. There was no way. It had to be a simple case of Danny owning an identical one.

"He __has__ got one like this."

"Check the label."

"Why?"

"Derek's sews his name into everything."

Well that was a good little piece of information he could use to mock his boyfriend. What sort of grown man still labelled his clothes? Did he label __everything__?

"When you say everything?" Stiles tried to think back to whether that was true. He'd not really been paying all that much attention to Derek's clothes when they were removed on the boat.

It did have a name sewn into the label. Black stitched letters.

__Derek Hale__.

"No." Saying the word again didn't change the fact that the label was there. "What the hell is Danny doing with Derek's jumper?"

"Do you really need to ask?" Marcus wasn't looking at him but there was unhappiness in his voice and his shoulders were tensed. "Stiles?"

"He wouldn't cheat on me." Strange, after everything, that he was so sure of that. Derek loved him, he'd said so himself, and he'd more than proved it since he'd asked him for help.

"Uh, kid, you know what Derek is like." Marcus was talking slowly, as if waiting for an explosion and Stiles smiled faintly, placing the hoody back in the drawer. "He might be. He's my best mate but I'm the first to admit he's not exactly the most reliable person."

"He isn't cheating on me."

His brother may not have been convinced but he didn't care. What mattered was Stiles was determined to trust Derek not to stomp on his heart. In fact, he didn't have to try; there was no doubt about it. He trusted him.

Plus, Derek had admitted to knowing Danny from somewhere before, maybe he'd just lent it to him last time they'd seen each other. There could be any number of reasons.

"Whatever. Are you done here? I think we need to go because there's a group of people being led back to the building by Jackson the Moron." Even as Marcus spoke Stiles felt his phone buzz.

****Code red: the moron has entered the building.****

Trust Braeden to treat the whole thing as a joke.

"We have a couple of minutes. The lift is broken." Stiles stated, stepping into Jackson's office.

His eyes swept the room quickly, eventually settling on the filing cabinet containing the client, contract and personnel accounts. There had to be something in there.

"Stiles you don't have time for this." Marcus hissed from the glass door, already balancing the very heavy box of junk. "We have to leave."

"I just need to grab a folder."

But the folder wasn't there.

Well, the actually folder was. The contents weren't; someone had replaced the contents of all of his personal finances with scrap paper.

"I don't understand."

"We have to go __now__!"

With a reluctant nod he followed Marcus out of the office, swiftly moving to the unused staircase at the back of the building. Stiles was silent as they walked, completely at a loss as to why all of his finance history was missing. Surely the only person to have access to them was Jackson. Why would he replace something so vital with scrap paper?

BREAK

"We did it!"

"Did what?"

Eri was, as usual, dressed in bunny slippers, and far too excited. What he didn't expect was for Isaac and Olive to be just as excited.

"Every single guest has a room to sleep in. Having them spread around the hotels and our house is brilliant because we can separate the groups and families that fight." Eri danced around him, expertly balancing her mug so that none of the hot chocolate spilt.

He was sort of listening to her but there were more important things on his mind. With difficulty he managed to settle on the sofa, cradling his arm on his lap, completely silent as he ran his discovery through his head again and again. He couldn't figure it out. Marcus had been just as confused. They'd even stopped for a coffee on the way to Olive's to try to talk through an explanation yet every idea was dismissed as unrealistic.

"What do you want us to do now?" Isaac's voice dragged him out of his brooding and he blinked up at the man.

"You need a generator." Stiles stated absently, thinking of the issue they had with the power supply.

"Sorted that out." Isaac grunted, taking his coffee from Olive's flustered maid. From the look of it the poor woman had been at Eri's beck and call for coffee for the entire morning.

"Oh."

"Are you okay?" Eri sat beside him, staring at him with worry. "Do you need to lie down? Derek said not to let you push yourself."

"I'm fine." It was a lie.

He was worried. The idea that all of that information had gone missing was bad. What if Jackson accused him of stealing? He'd have no evidence to support his denial.

"What else is left?" Olive interrupted, looking at her watch. "We have two hours before we will need to get ready to have dinner with Isaac's parents."

"Eri's dress, Isaac's suit, Boyd's suit, Lydia's maid of honour dress, caterers, serving staff, I need an update on the table accessories and the stage you wanted." He was getting a headache, his shoulder was hurting and he was being assaulted with nightmare images of Jackson having him arrested.

"I've almost finished with Eri and Lydia's dresses. Isaac and Boyd will be collecting their suits on Monday. Victoria has finished the design for the table decorations and that boy of hers is now beginning to make them. They tell me that they'll be ready on Wednesday. Boyd predicts that the stage will be finished by Tuesday." Olive frowned, worry flickering on her face. "Stiles you are very pale."

"I'm fine."

"You are not."

"Am too." He was being a petulant brat and he didn't care.

"Go and rest."

"No! There's too much to do!"

"It wasn't a request." Olive snapped back with practices ease, dealing with Eri for a lifetime meant that he was never going to be able to win.

"I'm fine."

"Isaac."

The soldier sighed and Stiles cried out as he was scooped off his feet. He had absolutely no choice but to let Isaac carry him off, his free arm was trapped between his body and Isaac's while the other was just throbbing. Struggling hurt a little too much too allow him to protest effectively.

"You're scaring them." Isaac stated when they reached that lavish guest room again.

"Who?"

"Erica and Olive." Isaac placed him sown gently, reaching for his plimsolls. "Whenever you go white and pasty like this Eri ends up on the verge of crying."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologise to me. I'm not bothered if you want to be stupid but it does bother me that you're upsetting Eriny." Isaac flashed him a grin as he dumped the tattered shoes on the floor. "Look, I went through the same thing with them when I was shot in the leg at work. They're pretty sheltered, just as most of the women are in our circle. This year Eri has encountered real violence in her life. Before you were mugged, and before I was shot, the closest she'd seen was Olive throwing a plate at the butler when she was ten."

"Oh."

"Let them fuss over you kid." Isaac sat on the bed, checking his temperature with a rough hand. "If you do as you're told then they'll feel like they're helping you."

"Sleep does sound quite good right now."

"I'll tell Eri you wanted to be woken in an hour."

"Thanks."

Alone, there was no way he could distract himself from his discoveries at the office. He didn't understand either. Surely Derek would have mentioned if he was going to be seeing Danny considering everything that had happened.

"He's not cheating." The problem was that no matter how many times he repeated that to himself Marcus's lack of trust in Derek was niggling away at his resolve to trust his boyfriend.

There was no polite way to find out if they'd met up either. The second he mention Danny, Derek was going to know that something was wrong. If he 'borrowed' Derek's diary to see if it was written in there then he would get caught and he didn't know the password for Derek's computer.

After turning the dilemma over in his head for far too long he sighed.

The missing financial records were another worry.

With Olive set on paying him discreetly by using his flat in the deal he couldn't afford to have Jackson demand some sort of investigation into him. With no records he was going to look like a criminal or something.

* * *

><p>"Are you hungry?"<p>

Marcus placed his bag down on the chair next to the wardrobe and Stiles offered him half a smile before the yawn took over his face.

"Not really. I just need some sleep."

"Okay. I'll leave some breakfast out for you in the morning before I leave for the cheese fair."

"Cheese fair." Stiles's eyebrows rose, not sure why anyone would want to go to a fair focusing entirely on cheese. "Why?"

"For the restaurant." Marcus shrugged, grinning. "I've been put in charge of a private function evening. A big city company wants to have a wine and cheese tasting evening."

"Sounds thrilling." His flat tone told his brother that he considered cheese anything but thrilling.

"You're a brat when you're tired." With an eye roll his elder brother leant against the door frame. "I happen to like cooking. Things at the restaurant have been getting slow lately and we've started running function evenings to boost our profits.

Marcus was a chef.

Chef cooked things.

They were professional caterers.

Marcus was his brother.

Marcus could, technically, be a caterer.

How exactly had he not considered that sooner?

"Alaaaaaan….."

"Don't you dare." Marcus chided, tapping Stiles's nose. "You played the little brother card this morning."

"You mean I can only use it once a day?" Cue the wide innocent eyes.

Three…two…one…

"What do you want me to do?" The words were drawn out in a sigh and Stiles beamed at him. It was almost too easy.

"Can I offer you a job?"

Marcus's gaze darted up to meet his, an amused smirk hovering on his lips as Stiles chewed on his bottom lip. He was trying not to laugh.

"I was wondering when you'd think to ask me."

"Will you?"

"Yeah sure. My sous-chef at the restaurant is ready to help me as soon as I need her." Marcus ruffled Stiles's hair with that smirk still on his face. "I'll come meet with this dragon woman on Friday. You'll need to find your own serving staff though."

"Thanks Marcus."

"Get some sleep Kitty. You look awful."


	18. I Want It That Way

The Little Brother Card

"Wakey wakey."

Morning was the worst possible time of day. The only thing that made a morning worse was being woken up at some ungodly how. However, that opinion was soon to be re-evaluated. Apparently waking to the sight of Derek holding a tray with coffee and breakfast made all of the usual morning grumpiness ebb away. Suddenly being awake was easier to tolerate.

"Do you need help sitting up?"

"Uh, no." Stiles blinked sleepily, inhaling the smell of coffee with a grin. "Are you after something?"

"No." Derek rolled his eyes and settled on the bed beside him. "I just had some inside intelligence on how to tame the horrible morning grouch."

"Marcus?"

"Yep."

"He snitched on me."

"Yep."

"Is that a cinnamon pastry?"

"Yep."

"Gimme."

"No."

"Give me the pastry or you get coffee in the face." Stiles grabbed one of the coffee mugs and Derek laughed, handing it over before the threat was followed through. It was probably wise, knowing Stiles and his disposition before noon it really wasn't worth risking it.

"I hope this is enough coffee to reduce your morning bitch factor." Derek was rubbing at his arm where Stiles's fingers had been digging into the skin.

"You're not supposed to call your poor injured boyfriend nasty names." The coffee was divine, the hot liquid just the right strength for seven a.m.

"Stop playing the victim card."

"I'll behave if you say I can have your pastry too?" Stiles fluttered his eyes at him, for some reason unable to keep the grin from his face. "You know, Marcus has absolutely no defence against the little brother card now. He'll do anything I ask."

So what if he was feeling smug about that?

"Eat your food." Derek had clearly bought the pastries from somewhere expensive, they literally dripped with expensiveness. Tasted good too.

"Mmmmm." He ate one pastry in two bites and the second in four, not caring that Derek was just watching with a disturbed expression.

"So what have you been forcing Marcus to do?"

"The usual. Fetch coffee, cook for me, drive me places. He's basically become my own personal slave." Stiles sipped at the coffee, closing his eyes and making a sound of appreciation. "Oh this is good coffee."

"So he's your errand boy?"

"Bit more like a partner in crime."

"Now that needs explaining. What have you been up to?" Derek was grinning at him despite the firm tone and Stiles grinned, tugging him down for a kiss.

"Yesterday we were secret detectives."

An elegant eyebrow arched but the serious expression didn't last as Stiles tugged him down again, gently pressing their lips together, arm firmly around his neck. Kissing Derek could make mornings the best part of the day.

"Someone is happy this morning." Derek teased, shifting to a more comfortable position and swooping in for another kiss, tongue delving into Stiles's mouth.

Maybe he shouldn't have laughed at Marcus's lack of defence against him, apparently he had no resistance to Derek the second the man had his mouth on his. Derek was such a good kisser that Stiles was starting to want to jump him whenever they kissed.

Of course the perfect moment and the even more perfect kiss had to be interrupted and Derek groaned when Stiles grabbed his phone, knowing better than to ignore a call when it was from Olive. Hell, he'd even set a personal ringtone for her just in case he did need to ignore a few calls from other people.

"Good morning." He sighed, eyes flickering to Derek when the man's fingers trailed under the loose t-shirt he'd slept in. Well that was certainly distracting.

"Stiles!" Her shriek made him jump and all of the happy, lovey-dovey emotions vanished when pain lanced through his ribs. Sudden movements still hurt like a bitch.

"Give it to me." Derek frowned, practically snatching the phone. "Hello Olive."

Stiles settled against Derek, rubbing gingerly at his ribs as Derek conversed with the dragon lady on his behalf. He was getting to the point where he could ignore the pain if he kept still and kept the pain medication topped up but sharp jerks were bad. Maybe Derek had some more morphine somewhere seeing as he'd been keeping track of them.

"I'll bring him over later." Derek stated firmly before snapping the phone shut. "Get up Kitten."

"Don't wanna."

"I'll wash your hair for you."

Stiles blinked. Derek was undressing.

"Uhm…"

"Get up." Derek pulled the bedding back, grinning as he leant down to kiss him. "I want a shower and you're going to join me."

Oh dear; he had no defence against that grin.

Stiles had __never__ showered with Jackson. In fact, he'd never showered with anyone before, or bathed, or even gone swimming. In the past nakedness had been done in the dark with Jackson or some other man who hadn't wanted much to do with him after sex. Derek on the other hand was watching him eagerly as he slowly shuffled out of his t-shirt and boxers.

He knew Derek loved him, he'd said so, but standing there, completely naked, in front of someone else was nerve wracking. Did Derek see all of the flaws he saw in himself? Did Derek see something good or bad? Was there a way that he could hide the fact that he had that burn scar on his thigh? Or was it pale enough to be mistaken for his stupid Paley-McPale skin? Did he see the way that his ribs stuck out funny on one side? Did the bruising across his body make him look ugly?

"Stiles." Fingers pressed under his chin to tilt his face up and Derek smiled faintly at him. "You don't have to be nervous."

"I'm not…"

"You're perfect to me." Derek breathed, kissing him again as he gently pulled him across the room and the landing until they reached the bathroom.

Even with the water pouring over them he felt vulnerable. Exposing yourself to someone else that way, standing there with no barriers, meant that you couldn't hide anything.

"Do you really think I'm perfect?" Stiles couldn't stop his mouth from spilling the question but Derek just grinned down at him.

"Yes." Simple sweet honesty. Stiles smiled back up at him. "Close your eyes. You don't want shampoo in them. And stay still."

The familiar smell of his shampoo made him smiled and he obediently stood in place, enjoying the feel of strong fingers massaging his scalp. Derek was very good with his hands apparently.

"How did you know it was my shampoo?"

"Easy. Your hair always smells of oranges."

"You really notice things like that?"

"Well you know every piece of clothing in my wardrobe."

"Huh?" It really was quite difficult to focus with his head being massaged like that.

"Marcus wasn't happy with me this morning. He said you found my hoody." Derek reached for the shower head. "Told me off for sleeping with Danny."

"Oh." Stiles pulled a face when some of the shampoo suds ended up in his mouth. "But you're not."

Derek stopped rinsing his hair for a moment, letting the silence stretch out between them. Stiles hadn't thought anything could make him feel more exposed in that shower but the silence did exactly that.

"You trust me."

"Yes."

"You don't think Marcus is right then?"

"No."

"I'm not sleeping with him." Derek stated as he started rinsing his hair again. "Danny is a friend. He's like a little brother."

"He's trying to ruin my life." Stiles muttered, thinking back to the missing financial files. "He stole Jackson and he's stolen-"

"Stiles."

"What?" He didn't care that he was being sullen. "It's true."

"I agree, the Jackson thing is true but you're better off without him." Derek picked up the matching orange conditioner. "Whatever else you think he's stolen he hasn't. Give me a few more days and everything will be explained. Trust me."

"I do trust you." Stiles grumbled, eyes closed again to avoid getting conditioner in them. "I just don't trust anyone else."

"You're far too young to be so cynical." Derek leant down to kiss him, smiling against his lips. "I promise you; Danny is not out to hurt you."

He didn't really have a choice after that. He trusted Derek, he'd told him that, he couldn't then refuse to believe him over something so important. He had to go with it.

"Okay." Stiles smiled against his lip, initiating another deep kiss. "But I'm going to reserve the right to say I told you so."

"Then I reserve the right to be a smug prat."

"You already are."

Derek's witty come back involved spraying the shower head directly at Stiles's face.

* * *

><p>"You can bow down and worship me now." Eri announced, smirking at Stiles when he walked into her kitchen.<p>

"Can I?"

"Yes. The dresses are all ready, we've bought the shoes, I've booked the hairdresser and we've settled on the bouquet." She announced in a sing song voice as she flopped ungracefully onto the sofa, bunny slipper clad feet dropping onto Stiles's lap. "The musicians are booked; we're having a Jazz band because the string quartet couldn't make that date. You know I think that this wedding might actually happen after all."

"Nice to see you had faith in me." Stiles muttered, peering at his list. "I found a chef."

"Really?" And Eri's excitement went up even higher. Maybe they needed to start rationing the caffeine products around her. "Who?"

"My brother. He's going to have samples by tomorrow morning."

"That's brilliant."

"You might want to hold off saying that until you've met him." Stiles warned, unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes. "You might not like him."

"Rubbish. If he's related to you then he'll be perfect."

"Right." Stiles wasn't sure of that was a good way to judge anything.

"What have you got on your list for this afternoon?" She asked suddenly, propping herself up on her elbows in order to reach the coffee Isaac placed on the coffee table.

"Anything that needs to be done." Stiles stared at the list of silver service providers that had refused him. He was starting to worry about that; there was no way that Eri could have a wedding where her guests had to serve themselves.

"I need help with the place markers." Eri admitted, gesturing to an unopened box by the door. "I haven't even opened the box yet."

"You haven't even started?"

"Uhm, no?"

"Get the box, we need to get those started as soon as possible then. Why exactly didn't you start working on them?" He couldn't really build up any decent anger or frustration after Derek had been so lovely all morning and it seemed she was taking advantage of that.

"There was so many other things to do and I hate things like that."

"You were just being lazy then?" Isaac commented as he stepped in with a huge tray full of cake samples and cucumber sandwiches. "Stiles, we've chosen the wedding cake and they're going to deliver the evening before. These are the samples we have left over."

"…The cake…" He paled. "I'd completely missed that. Oh god what else have I missed?"

"Stiles calm down." Isaac laughed, placing the tray down at the table Eri was placing their supplies on. "We told you a year ago that my cousin would be making it."

"Oh."

"You should take a holiday after this."

Eri spread the card and craft materials for the place markers out around the tray, offering Isaac one of those loving smiles, and Stiles sighed. He really did need some sort of holiday; maybe Derek would agree to whisk him off somewhere on the boat?

"Yeah maybe I should."

"We have a villa in Portugal that you could use if you wanted to." Isaac stated, slightly distracted as he started to put together the place marker.

"Uhm, thanks. Since when have you been able to do anything creative?" Stiles was watching with fascination as the tiny bronze leaves were attached to the corner of the cream card marker. "I thought you were in the army."

"Always." Isaac retorted with a laugh, rolling his eyes. "Being proficient with a gun doesn't equate to being a thug."

"I guess not."

He'd thought Isaac was a mindless thug when they first met and he'd been so rude and judgemental but he had hidden qualities after all; it explained why Eri was so besotted with him. He was actually pretty intelligent and nice, and apparently he was very creative and a very good teacher too. It only took him about fifteen minutes to have both Eri and Stiles working up to his standard.

"Where's Olive?" Isaac's words made Eri pull a face.

"Sulking."

"What's wrong with her now?"

"We were fighting over the seating plan this morning."

"Oh?"

That would explain her angry phone call that morning; she always shouted at someone else after she had a fight with Eri.

"What has she changed?"

"Well, I didn't really look, I just saw that everyone was rearranged." Eri huffed, gesturing absently to the chart stuck to the wall next to the sofa.

Stiles stood, heading over to look at what Olive had done to all of their hard work and his eyes widened in disbelief. The old bat had a heart after all; she'd rearranged everything so that she could have him and Derek sit at the head table next to her.

"I have no problems with that." Isaac shrugged, he was stood behind Stiles looking over his shoulder and to reassure him he placed his hand on the wedding planner's shoulder. "I'd rather you were sat with us after everything that you and Derek have done for us."

Realising that she's missed something, Eri leapt up and dashed over, gasping when Isaac pointed to the change she must have missed. She was running out of the room with her phone in seconds, probably ready to start grovelling.

"Do you really want us there?" He'd always thought the head table was for the close family and best friends of the two getting married.

"Of course we do Stiles. You're Eri's best friend now." Isaac shrugged, heading back to their crafts table. "She really struggles with making friends you know, I appreciate that you've got her to open up so much. People in our circle just don't know how to deal with her and the people in your circles just write her off as a brat."

Well he'd certainly not expected any of that.


	19. Golden Chains

How Not To Handle It

Kissing Derek was becoming his new favourite past time, it made him giddy and warm and feel like a completely loved up idiot every time. With a smile he tugged Derek down into another, one arm wrapping around his neck and his leg hooking around his middle.

"We need to stop." Derek breathed, trying to shift. "Stiles, let go."

"Why?"

"Because Marcus will be back soon."

"We have time." Stiles latched onto his neck, teeth scraping against Derek's collar bone. "Please?"

"No." Derek didn't sound like he meant the protest though so Stiles carried on. "Can you behave?"

"Don't want to."

Another kiss, another leg hooked around Derek, more body contact. Derek had stopped protesting and he was kissing him stupid, not even giving him the chance to think as their lips stayed meshed together. He groaned when Derek pulled away, trying to follow him.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you're still injured, Marcus will be home soon and the first time we do this I don't want it to be a quick fumble on your brother's sofa." Derek punctuated each word with a kiss to his neck. "It's going to mean more than that."

"You're being soppy again aren't you?" Stiles slumped, wincing at the fact that Derek was correct about his injuries, he'd been too distracted to notice but the heavy make out session had aggravated things.

"It's called respect Stiles." Derek snorted, smoothing the ruffles from his clothes and tidying his hair. "Try it some time."

"I do respect you."

"I was talking about respecting yourself."

"I do!"

"Then try thinking about something other than sex."

Stiles blinked. It was the first time he'd actually tried to initiate anything himself and Derek was accusing him of being one track minded? What the hell? He had no idea what was going on, all of a sudden he was on the defensive and he didn't like it.

Maybe there was something else that was bothering Derek? He did seem to be a little bit on edge.

"Did you have a bad day or something?"

"Oh fuck off Stiles."

"Hey! I'm trying here and you're just being a dick." Stiles snapped back, hating how tight it made his chest when Derek spoke to him like that. It was easier to take the anger and nasty comments when you didn't love the person doing it.

"You're being a melodramatic little shit."

Oh that did it!

"Well __you're__ the one that bullied __me__ into a relationship in the first place!"

"Bullied you?"

"Yes! You pushed until I gave in and now you're being a dickhead." He didn't mean that! He liked Derek even if they did fight over stupid things.

"Then maybe I should just go if that's what you believe."

How exactly had things got to that point?

Stiles swallowed, watching speechlessly as Derek tugged his suit jacket on and slid his shoes on. One minute they'd been thoroughly enjoying themselves and then Derek was walking out? The whole sequence of events just wasn't logical.

"I never thought you'd be the sort to run away." He called out, getting rather desperate to salvage the situation and putting his foot in his mouth out of panic.

The problem was that he'd not exactly had a proper healthy relationship in the past to clue him in on how to react to most of the situations he and Derek ended up in. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to apologise, stand his ground, or try to get the conversation to change.

"You do my head in sometimes." Derek hollered back before slamming the front door and Stiles winced.

What was he supposed to do next?

"You handled that wrong." Marcus informed him from the door, frown on his face and Stiles bit his lip.

"How long have you been there?"

"Since that award winning 'Well __you're__ the one that bullied __me__ into a relationship in the first place' comment you thought would help." Marcus grunted, still glaring at him. "You can be a real shit sometimes Stiles."

"You missed the beginning of the conversation."

"Judging from the fact that your shirt is half undone and your flies are open I'd say he refused to sleep with you." Marcus drawled and Stiles ducked his head as he felt his cheeks heat up. "Did you even ask why?"

"He said because I'm still hurt, and he doesn't want our first time together to be like that on the sofa." Stiles mumbled, unable to look at his brother. "I just…"

"Handled it wrong." Marcus's sigh was more frustrated than disappointed and Stiles peered over the back of the sofa at him.

"I don't understand though, last week he was willing but now he isn't." It was embarrassing but he had no choice, he didn't really have anyone other than Marcus to discuss it with.

"It's something that you need to talk to him about."

"Will you drive me to his house?"

"No, but I can drop you there tomorrow after we've seen this bride-to-be of yours."

"But-"

"Trust me on this; he needs time to calm down."

"It's not just me is it? There really is something else bothering him isn't there?"

"Yes but you need to talk to him directly."

"He should tell me, I'm his boyfriend!"

"Again, talk to him."

"Why is the answer always 'Talk to him'?"

"Because that's how relationships work brat." Marcus ruffled his hair with a half-hearted grin. "You have to communicate and apologise tomorrow when I drop you at his."

"But-"

"Look, you and I talk properly now and we're getting along. We've got crap in our past, and we've got long gaps where we didn't talk at all." Marcus sat beside him, holding out a mug of hot chocolate that smelt slightly orangey. "Nobody is psychic, which is why we have to talk to each other."

"When did you start making sense?"

"When I grew up. You might want to try it at some point."

* * *

><p>"Eri, Olive, Isaac; this is Marcus. Marcus, this is Olive Reyes and her daughter Eri, and this is Eri's fiancé Isaac." Stiles made the introductions awkwardly as they all arrived at Marcus's house.<p>

Originally Marcus was expected to go to them but he'd insisted on changing that so that they had to come to him. Stiles wasn't sure how that had gone down with Olive but she seemed calm enough when she'd arrived.

"Oh wow." Eri's face lit up when she stepped into the kitchen and Stiles smiled faintly when Isaac and Olive both inhaled deeply.

The kitchen door had been shut since four am, Marcus refusing Stiles any access to the room as he cooked up a myriad of taster dishes for the wedding party to sample. Stiles had spent a good portion of the morning pacing in the hall outside the room, grumbling about how he should be allowed to at least make a coffee.

"Please take a seat." Marcus gestured to the table, absently slapping Stiles's hand away when he tried to steal a piece of sautéed potato as he looked at Eri and Isaac. "Stiles told me the menu that you originally selected from your other caterer. I've made a similar dish but it's a different cut of lamb."

"What cut is it?" Olive was giving Marcus that look, the one that told you that she was getting ready to question you until you wanted to rip your own ears off.

"Square cut. I know you had leg joints last time but I have a friend who gives me decent discounts and a square cut is always a little more tender and the flavour tends to be richer when roasted." Marcus flashed her a smile; the same one that Stiles had seen him fire at their mother, teachers and all sorts of authority figures throughout his life.

"Well, that sounds satisfactory." Olive's stiff reply made everyone gawp at her. "Do you have an explanation for the rest of your display?"

Stiles sat back as Marcus handed each of them an information pack on the dishes around them; Marcus had literally thought of everything. He'd taken the original meat choice and cooked his own accompaniments, listing all ingredients, prices and dietary notes in the packs.

It was strange, the chef showcasing his food to the wedding party was not the same boy that he'd grown up with, he wasn't the same man that dropped everything and came running to help even when they hadn't spoken for months or years. He told smarmy jokes like Jackson's business associates, he made references to people in their social circle, and at one point he and Olive were happily slating one of the cheaper restaurants in town.

It reminded him that he didn't know his brother the way he should. They'd been estranged so often that he barely knew him, even if they were able to joke around and Marcus offered him advice they were still almost strangers at times.

"This is all so good!" Eri gushed, helping herself to more sautéed potatoes. "We have to have these."

"They are very good." Olive nodded, chewing some of the lamb thoughtfully. "The lamb, sautéed potatoes, the asparagus…"

"A platter of the winter root vegetables." Isaac stated, spearing another parsnip. "We should have someone to carve up the meat at every table."

"We'd need to get some staff or they're going to be serving themselves."

"That was supposed to be dealt with." Olive growled, rounding on Stiles, who swallowed.

Scary old lady mode activated. Where was Derek when he needed protection?

"I'm trying."

"Try harder."

"I'm trying as hard as I can."

"Well it's not good enough."

"Mother!"

"What? Clearly 'trying as hard as you can' isn't enough."

"I'd like to see you do as much as he has Olive."

"I'm paying him for results."

"You're bullying him."

"Eri it's okay."

"No it isn't. She's being a bitch."

"I'm simply saying what he needs to hear."

"No one needs to be put down all the time."

"Stiles needs a reminder or he falls into one of his pathetic mopes."

"Do not talk about my brother that way." Maybe it was years of being the voice of reason when Stiles and their mother fought but Marcus's tone made all of them shut up. Even Olive sat down and snapped her mouth shut. "That's better. Now, why don't you us the staff from the restaurant I work at?"

"What?"

"The correct response would have been 'Pardon' actually Erica."

"__Shut up__ Mother." Eri hissed, ignoring Isaac as he tried to calm her down. "Could we actually hire your staff?"

"Yes."

"Won't the restaurant need to be open?"

"No." Marcus grinned. "You have a cheque book and my boss likes money. We have thirty staff available and I know a good agency with bank staff if you need more."

"Brilliant!"

And Marcus had saved the day again.

* * *

><p>After having all of his calls ignored for the entire evening Stiles had an awful night that involved pretty much no sleep, so at dawn he crept into Marcus's room and hit him in the stomach grumpily.<p>

"What the hell Stiles!"

"Do you know where Derek's office is?"

"It's Saturday morning." Marcus grunted, pulling his quilt over his head. "Piss off."

"Marcus please." He whined, tugging at the quilt. "Please. Please. Please. Please."

"Go'way."

"Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please." Each word was punctuated with a bash of a pillow to Marcus's head. The annoying tactic always worked and after a minute or so Marcus groaned and sat up, glaring at him. "Will you take me to his office?"

"Fine!"

"Do you want breakfast?"

"Tea and porridge." Marcus sighed, flopping backwards on the bed. "I'll be down after I've showered."

"Okay. Thanks Marcus." Stiles reached the door before his brother spoke again.

"How do you know that Derek will be at the office on a Saturday morning?"

"Because he's got to make up the time somewhere. He spends so much time hovering over me that he would be in trouble with his father by now if he wasn't doing the work some other time." Stiles shrugged, not sure if that really explained how he just seemed to know.

"Right. Go and make my breakfast slave."

"Call me that again and I'll serve you the bloody porridge on your head!"

"No, don't make it with blood, it's supposed to be made with milk." Marcus retorted lazily, yawning as Stiles glared at him.

"That was a really bad joke."

"So get going before I make more lousy jokes."

Stiles – 0, Marcus – 1.

Damn.

* * *

><p>Marcus dropped him right at the door to the old Victorian style building that was head office for Derek's family business.<p>

"Do you want me to wait?"

"No. I'll convince Derek to drive me back or get a taxi."

"Alright."

Optimism was probably the worst of his traits as he stepped into the lobby. The realisation that it was stupid to believe the best case scenario hit him after he'd given his name to the secretary and taken a seat by the window. It was the site of Derek and Danny walking next to each other, Derek's arm around Danny.

NO!

Trembles shook his body as he crept closer to the secretary's desk and hid behind some stupid huge ostentatious vase with a tree planted in it.

"…go back?"

"Mmm?" Derek replied absently, checking his phone.

"Stiles hasn't called you Derek." Danny snapped, snatching his phone from his hand. "Just forget about him for five fucking minutes and take my feelings into account."

"Are you going to stop bitching?" Derek wasn't mad at being spoken to like he was the bad guy, in fact, he looked amused.

"I'm whoring myself out for you." Danny grumbled, handing the phone back. "All because you want to screw Stiles. You know he's completely emotionally stunted right? Jackson recons he must have been abused as a kid or something because he just keeps taking and never stands up for himself. Do you really want to be with someone like that?"

The little shit was trying to talk Derek into dropping him!

No.

No! No! No!

He needed Derek! Derek made everything in life easier to deal with. Life was actually fun when Derek was there to torment. What was he supposed to do? Jackson had chosen Danny over him after all…Did that mean that Derek would do the same?

"You don't know anything about Stiles." Derek replied calmly, rolling his eyes. "You should also know better than to listen to anything Jackson has to say."

"Kind of hard not to listen when he goes on and on and on and on and on…" Danny flashed a cute smile at Derek. "He's not like you. You're way better in bed."

"Danny."

"Yeah yeah yeah. Ancient history. I know." Danny looked at the clock and grimaced. "You were supposed to leave ten minutes ago."

"Shit."

Danny waited until Derek had run from the lobby as if the building was on fire and turned to the secretary, talking to her briefly. When Danny's smile dropped Stiles knew that she'd passed on his name and he stood as the other blonde slowly turned to look at him.

There was a very long stretch of silence until Stiles gave him a very frosty look.

"Hello Danny." As cold as he wanted to sound it was ruined by the fact that his voice shook and Danny just looked amused.

"Hello Stiles."


	20. Piano Man

Three Rules

"What are you doing here?"

"Leaving." Stiles muttered, head swirling with confusion. Derek hadn't said that he and Danny shared a history together that involved a bed. All he'd said was that they were friends. Did it count as a lie? Or was leaving out information considered something else?

"Wait!"

He didn't. He walked towards the door, wishing he knew how he was supposed to react to the revelation. Was it something he should be upset about or should he just leave it in the past like Derek seemed to be? It hadn't even been mentioned so it was either a sore subject for Derek, or it really was completely insignificant.

"Fucking wait!" Danny's hand closed around his arm and Stiles saw red.

Rounding on the little shit, he was vaguely aware of his fist flying through the air but he didn't actually register what he'd done until Danny was clutching at his face as Stiles found himself hunched over as he clutched at his hand. Punching people really hurt! He swallowed, jerking away in alarm when Danny's cold fingers brushed over his sore appendage.

"Jesus! Why did you punch me?"

"I'm sorry!" Stiles was still clutching at his knuckles. "Are you okay?"

"I will be. Are you?" Danny looked ready to start laughing at him and Stiles bit his lip.

"I've never punched anyone before." He admitted sheepishly, rubbing at his hand. "Does it always hurt this much?"

"Only if you don't know how to do it properly."

"Whatever." Stiles muttered, starting to move away but Danny caught his arm and tugged him back.

"Will you let me talk about this?" The confidence was gone and suddenly Danny was just a regular guy, just like him. Which was the real Danny? "Please."

"Fine."

"We'll go to my place, its not too far from here and we won't be disturbed." Danny's nose was still bleeding a little and Stiles bit his lip harder. He felt guilty, but not because he'd punched him, more because he felt a swell of satisfaction as he watched blood trickle from his enemy's nose down to Danny's lips.

Danny's place was a small flat about a ten minute walk away, it was small but had personality; bright colours, modern furniture and piles of CDs everywhere. They went to the lime green and sky blue kitchen and Stiles awkwardly sat at the breakfast bar, watching Danny make some tea.

"You don't remember me do you?" Danny didn't look at him; he was too busy putting tea bags into the mugs as the kettle began to boil.

"Should I?" A couple of months before he would have apologised for not remembering him. Derek's influence really had helped him grow a back bone though and that satisfaction grew when Danny made a frustrated sound.

"Figures. The first, and last, time I saw you was at that party Derek had at his lake house and they got you drunk." Danny leant a hip against the kitchen counter.

"You were there?" It wasn't surprising that he didn't remember him; he barely remembered anything from that night.

"Yeah. I was Derek's date." Danny's mouth twisted into a funny little smile, more self-mocking than anything. "Of course, I doubt he even remembers I was there that night too."

"Why?"

"Because he loves you, he's always seen you as this perfect person who deserves to be spoilt and protected and I put up with that for three years." Danny dragged fingers through his hair. "You have no idea how much he's done for you."

"Maybe if he stopped keeping so many secrets I would."

The kettle clicked, halting their conversation as the tension began to rise and Stiles bit his lip. He'd had no idea that Derek had been openly gay for that long. He'd been under the impression that it was a more recent revelation.

"Heh, funnily enough I agree with you there." He placed the mug down in front of Stiles. "I can't answer too much about all of that though considering he's sworn me to secrecy but I can explain Jackson to you."

Jackson.

He wanted to say he didn't care about Jackson, that what had happened was nothing to him but part of him had to know. Their relationship had died and as far as he knew Danny was the cause. Maybe he would stop questioning things with Derek if he had an explanation? Would it offer him that closure?

"I work for the HM Revenue and Customs." Danny dumped a packet of Digestives down on the breakfast bar and sat on the stool opposite Stiles. "I investigate major cases involving fraud, embezzlement and tax evasion."

"Uhm…"

"I've been investigating Jackson. I seduced him and pushed you out of the picture to get close to him so that I would be able to gather the evidence." Danny picked up a Digestive and dipped it into his tea, so calm about the fact that he'd broken up a relationship. "It's turned out better for you, you've got Derek now."

"Do I?"

His voice was the exact opposite of Danny's. He sounded so small, so unsure, so pathetic and Danny was confidant, certain, and so sure of what he knew. They looked similar but their personalities weren't.

"You should know." Danny muttered, reaching for another biscuit. "He's not stopped talking about you since you went to the club and asked him for help."

"Really?"

"Yes." Danny frowned, eyes darting to the clock. "Funny, you're not what I expected."

"What did you expect?"

"Some spoilt needy twink." Well that was rude.

"That's not very nice."

"Jesus. Talking to you is like kicking a puppy." Danny looked at his watch. "If you want to I can take you to where Derek is meeting Jackson. You could hear it all for yourself."

"They're meeting now?"

"In about half an hour. Do you want to?"

There was only one answer to that question.

* * *

><p>The restaurant that Danny took him to was his idea of a nightmare; the staff stared at his battered trainers and his worn out jeans, they pulled out Danny's chair and spoke to him in French all the while ignoring Stiles, and then they gave him a menu that was entirely French.<p>

Not exactly the ideal place for someone who couldn't even count to three in the stupid language.

"Why here?" Stiles grumbled, remembering a similar place that Jackson had insisted they frequent with new clients back when they first met.

Their table was hidden away, separated from those around them by screens and exotic plants. He couldn't see any of the tables around them but he could hear nearly every word, meaning it was going to be the perfect position to spy on his boyfriend and ex.

"Because Jackson chose it when Derek requested they meet up." Danny was completely at ease surrounded by the snobbery and Stiles screwed his nose up. "You can't speak French can you?"

"No."

"I can order for you."

"I can't even afford to order a glass of water in here." Stiles retorted and Danny snorted.

"The water is free and I'll pay." Danny glanced down at his menu again. "I'm eating even if you don't so if you're hungry just let me know."

Stiles had to wonder if Derek got annoyed that spending time with him meant he missed out on fancy restaurants and amazing food, since being together they'd eaten cheap takeaways and frequented places that Stiles could afford.

"Maybe a cheese baguette?" Stiles asked when one of the waitresses swished past, carrying a tray with a selection of baguettes for some other table.

"You and Derek deserve each other." Danny snorted and summoned their waiter, ordering rapidly in fluent French. "I swear he'd rather eat cheese on toast than proper food."

In fact, from the way that the man was looking at Danny and responding he had to wonder if they were actually flirting. Why would Danny be flirting with him if he was with Jackson? Why had Derek even decided to meet Jackson?

Why did he always find himself stuck with more questions than answers?

"Okay, they're here. Stay quiet." Danny hissed and Stiles bit his lip when he heard Derek order a drink from one of the tables next to them.

"I'll have one too." Jackson spoke next and Stiles sunk down in his chair, not sure how to feel about the situation.

Was he actually going to be told what was going on?

Their sandwiches arrived but his appetite was gone, his entire focus fixed on Derek and Jackson.

"Are you going to tell me what this is about?" Jackson asked irritably once the waitress had returned with their drink, his voice full of the familiar annoyance that Stiles had heard for their entire relationship.

"Stiles."

"I'm intelligent enough to deduce that without help."

"And Danny."

"Danny?" Jackson was shocked. Stiles could imagine him staring at Derek with a mixture of confusion and anger.

"Yes." Derek on the other handed sounded like he was about to go shopping for vegetables or something equally as boring. "He's a friend of mine."

"I had no idea he knew you." Jackson admitted but Stiles could hear the lie.

"We both know that's a lie." Good! Derek wasn't stupid after all. "It's not a coincidence that you met him, nor that he seduced you, and you played directly into his hands when you hired him to work at your company."

"Explain." Jackson only gave sharp one word commands when he was losing the upper hand.

"Did you know he works for HM Revenue and Customs?"

Stiles looked at Danny, who appeared more interested in his chips, which he was dipping into the fancy white wine sauce that had come with his shellfish. That was an odd combination but Stiles was more interested in how Jackson would react.

"No." There was a long pause after Jackson blurted out his objection and Stiles bit his lip. "Danny is only just eighteen."

"Danny is twenty-five."

"He looks so young!" Jackson's voice was lacking his usual confidence and Derek laughed.

"That would be why he was given the job of going to your company and gaining your trust." Derek was taunting him. "Incidentally he has enough information to lock you up for a very long time Jackson. You're looking at sentences for fraud, embezzlement and tax evasion."

"This is ridiculous-"

"I met a man called Charlie Braddock yesterday."

Silence.

Who was Charlie Braddock?

Stiles looked at Danny again but the other blonde was still more interested in his food, and it made him wonder how often Danny had listened to, or even been involved with, similar confrontations with other people he'd investigated.

"Why don't you tell me about Charlie Braddock? I've been monopolising the conversation." Derek had won, whoever Charlie Braddock was had won the verbal face off.

"He's a loan shark." He was actually shocked that Jackson answered but apparently Charlie Braddock was the key to making him confess.

"And?"

"I borrowed money from him." Jackson ground out, thumping his glass down on the table. "When he came after me with his thugs I manipulated him into battering Stiles. Happy? Was that what you wanted to hear?"

"Actually, yes." Derek was smirking and Stiles was just sitting in his chair, shaking.

He'd spent nearly two years with Jackson, two years of desperately trying to be good enough, trying to be someone that would be worthy and the entire time he'd been struggling and jumping through hoops. The whole time Jackson had been hiding the fact that he was nothing more than the scum on the bottom of his shoe.

"What?"

"This entire conversation has been recorded, you're going to be arrested, you'll lose your business, and you've already lost Stiles and Danny. I'm pretty satisfied with how all of this has turned out." Derek sounded so different, so like Olive or Derek's father…or Jackson. He'd never seen or heard him sound and act so cold towards another person.

"Why?" Jackson asked weakly, a note in his voice reminding Stiles that his ex was in fact a human, albeit not a very nice one. "What did I ever do to you?"

"You hurt Stiles." He said it as if it was the simplest thing in the world, like Jackson should have already known that.

Stiles ran.

How could Derek be so calm? How could he do all of that for a scrawny runt who started fights and had nothing to offer him?

The idea that anyone could care about him that much, to put so much time into getting revenge on his behalf, was terrifying. No one had ever done anything like that for him, even Marcus.

He was aware of Danny calling after him but he just ran, skidding out of the restaurant and along the street until he reached the train station. There was no doubt Danny or Derek would follow him but he needed to talk to someone else, someone who didn't know much of what was going on. He needed someone who had no bias, who hated everyone equally.

Fumbling with his phone on the train he flicked through the contacts frantically, a strange pathetic realisation dawning.

Marcus.

Isaac.

Eri.

Derek.

Olive.

He didn't have anyone in his life that he could talk to. All he had were people that he knew through work or Marcus. Those five were the only ones he could even consider talking to and yet he didn't feel close enough to any of them.

With a deep breath he selected one number and pressed call.

"Stiles?"

"Hey. Uhm, are you busy?"

"I'm always busy boy." The irritation in her voice made him smile.

"Could you spare an hour to talk?" He asked softly, wondering if she would refuse. "I really need someone to talk to."

"If course."

"Thanks Olive."

* * *

><p>"Sit."<p>

Olive bustled around the kitchen, revealing that she did in fact know what to with a kettle, and Stiles sat at the table he'd spent hours at planning Eri's wedding.

"Talk."

So he did. He started with how Derek had bullied him when they were children, covered how he'd run away from his less than sensational single mother and the struggles he'd had. She was a good listener, not saying a word even when he detailed his misguided trust when it came to the people in his life, his relationships, his inability to ever relate to anyone he knew.

It grew dark outside as he admitted that he didn't have any direction in life, that he had no idea why Derek was interested, and finally he revealed what he'd overheard. He didn't know what to feel about his boyfriend being so cold and calculating.

"You make life very complicated." Olive told him when he came to the end of it all and he took a mouthful of what had to be his sixth mug of hot chocolate.

"I do?"

"You have to look at the basics first, not the big picture." It was the first time Olive had spoken to him as if they were equal. "Do you like Derek?"

"Yes."

"Are you happier with him in your life than you are with him out of it?"

"Happier with him in it."

"Do you like your brother?"

"Yes."

"I'm not going to ask the same two questions of everyone you know Stiles." She chided and he offered her a sheepish grin. "I will ask if you enjoy your job."

"Uhm…"

"The answer is yes or no, not 'uhm..' In fact, 'uhm' isn't even a word."

"Yes. If I ignore Jackson and all of his sabotage and the crap he's done then I do like my job. I just don't think I'm very good at it." His admission made her frown and he instantly felt the need to explain more. "I'm not brilliant at dealing with brides, or birthdays, or celebrations. I like the organising and the final result when everyone is satisfied."

"I think I've got the answer to that." She announced, giving him a real, genuine, smile.

"Really?"

"My husband's PA has handed her notice in. He needs someone to organise him and his larger business conferences." She smiled a little more. "He's flying back in a couple of days for the wedding. I'll talk to him."

"Really? You think I'd be able to handle that sort of stress?" Stiles froze. Olive had said he was 'flying back' from somewhere. "Does he travel a lot?"

"No. He's been away for the past two weeks with his children and grandchildren from his first marriage but that's a matter to discuss another time." Olive sipped her hot chocolate daintily. "I think you're adequate for the role. You're very resourceful."

"You make all of this sound simple."

"Life is only as difficult as you make it." She quoted, placing her mug down when voices were heard approaching the kitchen. "You only need three rules to make sure it stays manageable: Live within your means, keep the things that make you happy and never go to bed angry at your husband."

"I don't have a husband."

"Derek is close enough. I think you need to talk to him don't you?" It dawned that she was mothering him and he loved it. No one had ever taken the role of a mother figure in his life.

"Thank you Olive."

He hugged the old bat and she squawked, shocked, awkwardly patting his back as he kept his arms around him.

"You are a very strange young man."

"And you're actually quite nice."

"I'll deny all knowledge of that boy."

"It's okay." He grinned as he pulled away. "I won't tell anyone."


	21. Shadows of the Night

Terms of Agreement

Working on a Sunday was possibly one big joke as far as he was concerned. Sunday was supposed to be used for sleeping in late, cuddling, breakfast in bed and fighting over whether or not they were going to watch yet another Disney film.

Stiles carefully placed the bag full of coffee and Derek's favourite muffins, and leant on the receptionist's desk until Danny looked up at him. When he did Stiles bit his lip; Danny looked awful.

"You look like you haven't slept." He murmured, reaching into the bag and offering the other his coffee. He didn't __want__ to part with the delicious coffee, he just felt that he needed to present some sort of peace offering.

"I haven't." Danny slowly took the cup, eyeing Stiles suspiciously. "You didn't spit in it did you?"

"Nope."

"Good." He quickly pulled the plastic lid off and drank half of it in a few gulps. "Oh I needed that."

"Why didn't you sleep?"

"Because I was following Derek around the city looking for you."

"Oh."

"Is that all you have to say?" Danny was mad. Really mad, and his voice rose as he stood. "Do you have any idea how scared he was? I had to call every hospital, every morgue and every police station! You just ran off and no one knew where you were! You didn't answer your phone."

"But-"

"You don't deserve Derek! You don't deserve anyone!" Danny's voice was getting louder and Stiles started backing away, cringing at the volume. "He literally stopped living his own life for you! He stopped going out, stopped seeing his friends, and he's been fighting with his dad non stop but you just keep wanting more from him! What do you give in return or do you just leech off him like everyone else does?"

Stiles stopped dead when he stepped back against someone and he jumped, trying to get to the exit but whoever he'd stepped on caught him with an arm around his middle and Danny shut up very quickly.

"Maybe you should go home and sleep." Derek suggested, looking at his friend coldly and Danny rolled his eyes.

"Whatever."

With a childish door slam Danny disappeared out of the posh wooden carved doors, leaving Stiles trapped against Derek's chest.

Suddenly he didn't have a clue what to say.

"Are you okay?" Derek asked softly, almost reluctantly releasing his hold.

If Danny looked bad, Derek looked worse. Guilt flooded Stiles as he turned to look at him, taking in his sunken bloodshot eyes and the lines of exhaustion. He really had been up all night and that made him feel like shit.

"I'm sorry for running away." He told him quietly, reaching for the bag. "I uhm, I just needed to…talk about it I suppose."

"You can talk to me Stiles." Derek took the bag slowly, not quite up to his usual speed and Stiles caught his hand, squeezing it and tugging him towards the chairs.

"That's sort of why I'm here."

"Yeah?" That was coupled with a bemused expression, as if Derek didn't quite know what to think of the confession. "What are we talking about?"

"Us and why things aren't working properly." Stiles sat as Derek gawped at him and he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Maybe you need to sleep first."

"No way." The millionaire's hand tangled in the sleeve of his jumper and hauled him into a posh office with the biggest wooden desk Stiles had ever seen. "What the hell do you mean things aren't working properly?"

Derek was afraid? The concept that Derek could be scared was a new one to him.

"We fight-"

"Everyone fights!"

"We don't have much in common-"

"We'd get bored if we both did the same things all the time together."

"You're making sacrifices-"

"That's what relationships are about!"

"Will you let me finish at least one sentence?" He asked softly, nudging Derek into the flashy leather office chair and perching on the edge of the desk in front of him, placing a foot on each of Derek's knees to keep him sitting. "I'm not breaking up with you but we have to talk about this."

"I love you." Derek sighed, not looking at him. At least he was a little calmer once Stiles had assured him he wasn't being dumped.

"I know, and because of that you're ignoring things."

"Like what?"

"Olive told me that there are th-"

"When did you talk to Olive? OW!"

"From here onwards, every time you interrupt me I'm going to kick you." Stiles threatened and bizarrely it was what Derek needed to relax properly in the chair and start drinking his coffee. "Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Right. Olive said there are three rules in life: Live within your means, hold onto the things you love and never go to bed angry at your husband." He smiled at Derek's raised eyebrows but thankfully he stayed quiet. "First, I slept for a couple of hours last night but only once I'd thought about everything and talked myself out of being angry."

"Why were you angry? Jackson got what he deserved."

"Because you kept all of it a secret from me."

"Oh." It was the first time Stiles was on the receiving end of the 'oh' response and he had to admit it was rather frustrating.

"So I'm not mad because I understand that Danny's investigation needed to be a secret and you were just trying to protect me." He held out a blueberry muffin to Derek, who practically snatched it.

"What about the other two rules?"

"I love you, so I'm not going to let you go without one hell of a fight." His words made Derek relax properly in his chair. "So that's number two dealt with."

"And live within your means?"

"Yes." Stiles took a deep breath, nervous about what sort of reaction he was going to have. "I have the money from the flat; Olive bought it and the payment went through. I'm also going to get a new job."

"Right. What are you rambling about now?" With the coffee in his system Derek was less blank.

"I don't want to move in with you, and I wouldn't want you to move in with me." Stiles said slowly, still scrambling to find the best way to say what he __did__ want.

"But you just told me that you love me."

"I do!"

"Then what the hell do you want? Are you schizophrenic or something?"

"Just shut up! For once in your life shut up and just let someone else talk!"

"Okay. Go on, I'm listening."

But Stiles was just staring at where his feet rested on Derek's knees, his mind full of doubts of his decisions. They really did fight a lot. Gentle hands eased his trainers off and placed one foot down in his lap and began to massage the other.

"I quite like this more assertive side to you."

"I don't." Stiles admitted, unable to stop the tiny smile creeping onto his face. "I like it when you make the big decisions."

"Okay. I'm not going to talk until you've finished talking about number three on Olive's list."

"I want to live with you." The best tactic was just to say it; they could iron out the details later. "On neutral ground, in a house where I can pay my half of the bills and the mortgage."

The hands on his foot didn't stop moving and he slowly looked up to meet Derek's eyes, relieved at the huge smile on the man's face. That had to be a good sign.

"I'd love to but I have one condition."

"What?"

"We'll start looking now but we won't choose anything until we knew what your new salary will be." Derek moved his feet and pulled him onto his lap. "You also have to get a job that you actually like."

"That's two conditions."

"I want you to be happy."

Mmm. Every word was punctuated with a kiss to his neck. He liked that.

"I want the same for you so I'm going to add my own conditions." Stiles tilted his head, settling against Derek's chest smugly.

"Yeah?" He had to wonder if Derek was even listening.

"You need to stop spending all of your time with me."

And Derek stopped.

"Why?"

"You barely spend time with Marcus anymore, and Danny said that you've stopped going out with you friends and that you're fighting with your Dad. I don't want to be the reason that there are things wrong in your life." Personally he would rather have Derek by his side every moment of every day rather than spending time with Danny after everything but that wouldn't be fair.

"Then my counter conditions are that you spend more time with Eri and you have to at least try to make more friends."

"Okay. You're going to stop working Sundays."

"You're going to turn your phone off at night on weekend so that we actually get to sleep in." Derek pushed his arms up over his head so that he could pull his jumper off.

"No more keeping secrets from me."

"If you promise never to cook for me again."

"You're not going to splash the cash around and try to give me things like cars." Derek's shirt was unbuttoned.

"On the condition that you let me pay for our house to be refurbished."

"Fine. I'm using the money from the flat to pay the deposit then." Goodbye t-shirt.

"You keep ten thousand of it and invest it." Good Derek's trousers.

"And we never go to bed angry at each other?" Good bye Stiles's jeans.

"I think I can agree to all of that. I have one more condition though."

"What?" How exactly could Derek be so coherent when Stiles was seriously struggling to keep up?

"That pole dance you promised me…"

"Oh shut up." Stiles growled against his lips, hands tangling in Derek's unusually scruffy hair as he kissed him uncharacteristically aggressively.

Having Derek's hands all over him was amazing, better than before because his injuries weren't hurting at every movement, and Stiles practically rubbed against him, tipping his head to the side when Derek started nibbling at his ear lobe.

"The door." Stiles mumbled when Derek lifted him, placing him on the edge of the desk.

"We're alone." Derek's breathing was getting heavier as he tugged at Stiles's boxers, mouth still attacking his ear and neck.

"But-"

"Shh. Stop thinking." A hand trailed up over his bare thigh and Stiles closed his eyes, urging the hand to keep climbing.

It didn't. Instead it started moving back down, the light touch sending a shiver through him. Just that little touch and he was almost breathless. Derek's other hand brushed down his spine, fingertips firm against him and he felt his back arch, pushing his chest against Derek's. Since when was his back an erogenous zone?

The hand brushed back up the inside of his thigh, stopping a little closer before travelling to his hip and he shifted, lifting his hips from the desk just enough to grind against Derek.

Wow. Derek was just as horny as he was.

"Minx." Derek breathed, pushing his hips forward to trap Stiles on the desk.

"Then do something!" He didn't care how needy that sounded.

Derek just grinned at him and kissed him again, hands holding his hips in place as he rocked against him, making Stiles want to wriggle against him. As annoying as it was to be teased, it really felt bloody good.

"Off." He tugged at Derek's underwear impatiently and the millionaire complied, his underwear joining the rest of the clothes scattered on the floor.

With new found confidence he pushed Derek back into his flashy chair and straddled him.

"Did I mention that I liked you being assertive?"

"Just shut up and fuck me already."

So he did.

* * *

><p>Venue – Yes<p>

Minister – Yes

Dresses – Yes

Suits – Yes

Flowers – Yes

Tables – Yes

Place markers – Yes

Table Decorations – Yes

Table seating plan – Yes

Hotel Bookings – Yes

Horse and Cart – Yes

Musicians – Yes

Caterer – Yes

Wine company – Yes

Serving Staff – Yes

Generator – Yes

Outdoor lights – Yes

Boats – Yes

Honeymoon – Yes

Clean-up crew – Yes

Stiles stared at the list once he'd put his tick next to the clean-up crew and couldn't help feeling smug.

"I did it." He exclaimed as Eri propped herself up on her elbows, reaching for the bottle of water she had next to the sun lounger she occupied. "You know, you should put sun cream on."

"This is the first day hot enough to give me a tan in over a month, I have a mere five days until my wedding, and you think I should wear sun cream?"

"Is one day worth the cancer risk?" An unfamiliar voice interrupted from above Stiles's head

"No. That is why I didn't book a sunbed at the spa." Eri took a large glug of water and stood, hugging the grey haired man tightly. "Did you have a good holiday?"

"Yes. I'll show you the photographs later." The man must be Eri's dad, they looked so alike; same nose and eyes. "I need to talk to Stiles before your mother nags me again."

"Me?"

"Yes." The man sat on Eri's vacated sun lounger as the bride to be dashed off to tackle Isaac, who seemed to be torn between irritation that the football game was being interrupted and excitement that he had a woman in a bikini in his arms. "She's very much like her mother."

Stiles blinked.

"She is?" How could lively, cheerful, happy Eri be considered anything like Olive?

"You wouldn't know it now, but when she was Eri's age my wife was quite the rebel."

That was too much information. Wrinkling his nose Stiles placed his notebook down, trying not to imagine Olive tackling anyone in a bikini. Yuck.

"My wife has told me everything that you achieved this past month." The man declared and Stiles bit his lip, not sure what to say, or if he needed to say anything at all. "Even with everything that has happened you were able to succeed in planning the perfect wedding for Eri."

"It may not be perfect yet Mr Reyes." Stiles replied with a shaky smile. "It hasn't actually happened yet."

"Olive has faith in you so I'll give you mine." Opposites really did attract because the man was __nothing__ like Olive! "Call me Cornelius."

"Uhm, okay."

"I have doubts that you will be as good as a PA as my current slave driver, however, because you have more than proven you have some worth with this wedding nightmare I'm going to offer you a three month probationary contract." Cornelius' eyes were fixed to the engaged couple Isaac let Eri climb on his back before attempting to play football.

"Thank you."

"After the wedding I'll have Sheila contact you for a meeting with my lawyer to deal with the contract and then you can spend a month shadowing her. You'll then have two months to prove yourself." When Cornelius looked at him Stiles slowly nodded, stunned. "Do you have any questions?"

"Not yet. I may have a very long list next time I see you though."

"Good. I like a man who thinks the details through. I will see you at the weekend."

As he walked away, leaving Stiles with a stupid grin on his face, Isaac carried Eri over. She refused to release him though so instead of being dumped onto the sun lounger she dragged him down too.

"What was that about?" Derek slid an arm around him, sneakily disguising the fact that he was stealing the coffee Stiles had.

"That's mine." He growled and Derek just laughed.

"You need to learn to share."

"You need to learn that not everything is yours for the taking." Stiles countered quickly, not really angry at Derek.

"Really?" Derek caught hold of him and trapped him on the sun lounger, smirking. "What about you? Are you mine for the taking?"

"Derek." Stiles's hiss made Eri laugh and he knew his cheeks were flushing scarlet.

"Well?"

"You know the answer to that." He mumbled, wishing that Eri and Isaac weren't watching them.

Derek ducked his head down to kiss him, grinning like an idiot. Even if it did embarrass him, he was beginning to realise that he would literally do anything to make Derek smile at him, just as Derek would move heaven and earth to make him smile back. So he let Derek cop a feel, discreetly doing a little groping of his own, before letting the man climb off him and return to their football match.

"You should let me plan your wedding." Eri settled back on the sun lounger, sneaky expression on her face.

"My wedding?"

"Yes."

"I'm not getting married."

"Yet." She cracked an eye open to look at him. "I see Derek asking you before you even have your first anniversary."

"Doubtful."

"How much are you willing to bet?"

"If he does, you can plan it and be my maid of honour." He replied dubiously, wondering if she was just saying it because she enjoyed the wedding buzz. "If he doesn't then you have to donate at least thirty pairs of designer shoes to charity."

"No way!"

"Then no bet."

"Fine. Doesn't matter anyway because I'm going to win!"


	22. Bye, Bye, Bye

Epilogue - Derek – 685. Stiles – 686

Weather – Awful.  
>Shoes – Missing.<br>Tie – Hiding.  
>Sleeve – Ripped.<br>Minister – Late.  
>Caterer – Flu. Hunched over a toilet on the other side of the church.<br>Groom – Who the hell knew? Last seen in a bar with best man and hadn't been seen since.

"I thought you were supposed to be lucky." Eri commented, adjusting her dress.

"Why would you think that?" bemused, Stiles looked up from where he was searching for his tie amongst the scattered clothes.

"Well, have you seen your fiancé." She glanced at him in the reflection in the mirror she was using to preen. "So you should have some measurement of luck."

"I think I missed that rule somewhere." He grabbed his phone when it beeped.

"Any news?"

"Marcus says his sous chef is here to take over the catering." He dumped his phone on the table again, dropping to his knees and digging through Eri's discarded tights and hair accessories. "How many hair clips do girls actually need?"

"I always keep a few spare to stab idiots in the eye if necessary." She retorted airily, more interested in smoothing her eyebrows down. "It saves on space in a handbag. Knives are so chunky."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're borderline psychopathic?"

"Isaac tells me regularly."

"Good to see that you care for your own mental state." He pulled a pair of ripped stockings out of the pile of junk and sighed. Where the hell was his tie?

"I'm rich. The official diagnosis of my mental health is always going to be that I'm simply a little eccentric." She flashed him a grin. "This is all quite exciting."

"For you maybe. I don't have a tie, or shoes and my sleeve is ripped." Stiles pulled a face, dumping all of their mess down on the bed. "That's it. Just not going to wear a tie."

"Did you even bring your shoes?"

"What?"

"They were in the shoebox on your table last night. Did you pick the box up?"

"…Maybe?"

"I think we've just figured out why you can't find them." With a laugh she looked down at his feet, thoughtful. "Your feet are pretty small."

"So?"

"Somehow I doubt we're going to find a pair in your size from one of the guests."

"I'm not wearing someone else's shoes!"

"Well you're bloody well not going to go in those socks!"

"What's wrong with them?"

"You mean apart from the fact that one is blue and stripy and the other is brown with holes in it?"

Stiles cringed, remembering how he'd grabbed the last two clean socks from the washing basket in his rush when she was trying to usher him out of the door. He'd shoved them on his feet that morning with the intention of hiding the battered socks in his shoes.

"Oh crap. Everything is going wrong!"

"Calm down. The important thing is that we're not going to be late."

"And that's matters how? The groom is still missing!"

"Do you want some scotch?" She pulled a small hip flask out of the garter belt under her dress and he stared at her in disbelief.

"I knew you were acting too calm!"

"Shut up, have some scotch and we'll figure something out." When Eri growled an order at you like that you obeyed but Stiles still pulled a face at the horrible tasting liquid.

Why did Derek like Scotch? It tasted like something you could remove nail varnish with.

Eri drained the last of the alcohol, slipped her own shoes off and sat, staring down at Stiles's feet thoughtfully. He let her take control; as long as she didn't decide to force him into a pair of her heels then he wasn't fussy about what the solution was.

BREAK

They found the groom asleep in one of the empty guest rooms and with Olive and Derek's mother overseeing them the best man managed to get him ready. Olive barking orders and scaring people was probably the sole reason that the idiot even cooperated in the first place but eventually they were stood at the hand carved arch covered in flowers.

Derek flashed Stiles a grin as they stood side by side, eyes darting down to his feet where he could see his bare toes peeping out from under his trousers and the grin grew. Stiles on the other hand flushed red.

"We will now hear the vows."

Derek reached out to take Stiles's shaking hand and the grin shifted into a loving smile, the smile that Stiles was lucky enough to wake up to every day.

"Derek?"

"Stiles, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me." Derek began and Stiles bit his lip as he returned the smile. "I was going to promise never to wake you up before noon on a Sunday, or drink your coffee when you're not looking, and especially not to tidy around you when you're trying to watch your stupid Disney films but I'm not going to do that. I'm going to tell you that you have made my entire life worth every second and being able to have you in my arms every day is like living in my very own perfect dream. You're perfect."

Oh god he was going to cry!

"So I'm not going to vow to do all of those things; wake you early because it means I get to have you for longer, to spoil you rotten because I love the way you eventually give in and kiss me just to shut me up, to buy you the puppy because quite frankly I just want you to keep smiling. I am going to make sure you and I enjoy every single day together for the rest of our lives, and I will never, ever, let either of us go to bed angry."

He was crying.

Trust Derek to be so incredibly soppy that he had suddenly had no recollection of what his own vows were supposed to be.

"Stiles?"

He sniffled, flinging himself at Derek and hugging him tight.

Every laugh, every discussion and every battle of wills had led to that moment and when it finally arrived Stiles was speechless.

"Stiles? Your vows?"

Derek placed him back on his feet as a ripple of amusement went through the crowd.

"I love you." He choked out when Derek handed him a small packet of tissues. "I had all of my vows written out but all I can say now is that if you wake me up before noon tomorrow I'm going to hurt you."

He blew his nose as Derek laughed at him and shuffled forward, standing on his toes so that he could kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear.

"You are perfect to me too and I'm never going to stop showing you how much I love you."

As he stepped back his eyes flickered to where the guests had leant forward to try to hear what he'd said. The ceremony continued and Stiles handed Eri the packet of tissues when she started sniffling beside him after signing as his witness.

The guests filed out and Stiles turned to Derek as his new husband wrapped an arm around his middle, ducking his head down so that he could nibble on Stiles's ear lobe.

"Where are your shoes Kitten?" Derek whispered, ignoring the way that Eri was demanding a camera from Marcus, who was trying to escape.

"On the kitchen table?"

"And your tie?" His fingers hovered over the button of his shirt and Stiles found himself getting breathless at the feel of Derek's body pressed against his back.

"In your car I think." He mumbled, tipping his head back and closing his eyes.

"And why is your sleeve ripped?"

"Uhm…"

"Well?"

"Save it for the honeymoon!" Marcus burst out when fingers started to dip into the waistband of his little brother's trousers. "Seriously Derek! Not in front of me!"

They laughed but separated, sharing a triumphant grin.

"Photos Stiles!" Olive called from beside Eri and the photographer the second they stepped out of the Reyes summer house and Stiles tugged his husband and brother to the woman's side.

"Stiles?" He glanced up at Derek as the photographer began to arrange people. "Please tell me I imagined that you don't have any underwear on."

"I don't. You're going to have to try to cope with that knowledge until tonight though. No sneaking off." He tilted his face up so that he could grin up at him when he heard the other man groan.

Derek – 685. Stiles – 686.

Take that Derek!


End file.
